The Pretender
by twenty3
Summary: It's a matter of strength and courage. Getting yourself back means risking everything. Nick will have to choose between potentially losing everything and losing his life. But maybe we have to break everything to make something better out of ourselves.
1. Hard to Say

Nick is faced with the challenge of saving his own life, in more ways than one. To beat his adversary, he's going to have to overcome inner demons as well and fight harder than he ever has in his entire life. For his life.

I don't own anything except for the characters I make up.

**_"It's not until we lose everything, that we are free to do anything." -Chuck Palahniuk_**

* * *

It had started out an ordinary night at the Las Vegas Crime Lab. It was a slow one, which left Nick Stokes and Warrick Brown with nothing to do but the paper work they had successfully put off for a month. Even though they were extremely behind and were only managing to get Ecklie madder, the two men still didn't start to work on the forms, and instead occupied themselves with a rousing game of "avoid Ecklie and Grissom at all costs."

Needless to say, the two of them were very good at their new game. They were able to avoid both Ecklie and Grissom for almost the entire shift by hiding out in the locker room, trace, DNA, fingerprint and A/V labs, and even going up to the roof for an hour or so. But as a result of getting better at their game, Nick and Warrick got sloppy. With only an hour left in their shift, they were cornered in the break room by both Ecklie and Grissom.

"Where the hell have you two been all night?" Grissom asked.

Nick shrugged. "Following up on cases so we could get all that paper work done," he said with a smile.

"Yeah," Warrick agreed. "You guys wanted it done, but we had to do a little more work for some of the cases. It just goes to show how dedicated we are."

Ecklie rolled his eyes. "I appreciate it, but unfortunately we need you guys to stay here and pull a double. Our slow night turned into a busy morning and we need all the hands we can get."

"You two are working a 419 out in Henderson with suspicious circs," Grissom said. "Apparently, there's an eye witness and plenty of evidence, but Brass said he's never seen anything like it. So I want you two out there as soon as possible to figure out what's going on."

"Have Greggo help us out with our paper work and we'll call it even," Nick said as he took the assignment slip from their supervisor and headed out the the parking lot with Warrick.

* * *

The pair made it out to Henderson in what had to have been record time. Nick had been driving a little too fast, which Warrick had been sure to comment on. They were still arguing about who was a better driver as they got out of the car, grabbed their kits and walked up to Brass, who was standing in the middle of the walkway that lead up to the front porch of the large blue house.

"It's about time someone got their ass out here," Brass said dramatically.

Warrick held up his hands. "Hey man, if Nick had driven any faster, we'd be on Doc Robbins' table instead of here."

"Total drama queen," Nick said, shaking his head.

"Whatever guys," Brass said with a smile. "You've got your work cut out for you today. I've never seen anything like what's in there, and I've been told this eye witness is a little nutty. I suggest both of you go inside, then go see Mrs. Nut Job."

Nick and Warrick smiled at the police captain and headed off into the house. As soon as they were inside, their smiles faded and they immediatly agreed with Brass. Neither one of them had ever seen a scene quite like this. The foyer to the house was covered in blood smears and spatter floor to ceiling. Arrows were drawn in blood on the floor, pointing towards the living room. The CSIs exhchanged puzzled expressions before following the arrows into the next part of the house.

They saw it before they even set foot inside the living room. In the center of the far wall, a man was pinned up to the white wall by a large knife sticking out of the middle of his chest. There were countless cuts covering his entire body. A large blood pool was on the beige carpet beneath his feet at the end of the trail of blood leading from behind the man all down the wall. His feet were three feet off the floor and his arms were hanging stiffly at his sides.

"He must have been killed in the foyer," Warrick thought out loud.

Nick nodded in agreement. "Yeah, there's not enough blood in here to suggest otherwise."

They heard Brass come in behind them. The two younger men followed his finger, which was silently pointing up to the ceiling. In blood, someone had written "HE'S NEXT."

"Someone had a lot of time on their hands to draw us so much," Nick said. "They obviously wanted to make a point."

Warrick sighed. "I think they made it loud and clear."

* * *

After processing the scene for three hours, Nick and Warrick loaded up their Denali with all the DNA samples, fingerprints, and trace they could find throughout the entire house. They had enough evidence to keep the techs, and themselves, busy for a very long time.

They both stretched for a minute, trying to get the stiffness out of their necks and backs. They were glad to be out of the house and out in the fresh air and sunlight. It would take a little while for the iron smell of blood to pass, but it was worth the wait.

"Ready for the witness?" Warrick asked after a couple minutes.

Nick sighed. "I guess so."

The CSIs went with Brass across the street to the tan house set back in a perfectly green grass yard. The walked up the paved path as the sun was rising to the top of the bright blue sky behind the house. The large white front door opened before they even had to knock.

"What else can I do for you?" the woman who answered the door asked politely.

"I'm Detective Jim Brass, and this is Nick Stokes and Warrick Brown with the Crime Lab. They would just like to ask you a few questions."

The woman smiled plesantly at Warrick and Brass, then her eyes froze on Nick. She held a look of shock on her face, but the Texan didn't notice. Brass and Warrick saw it, but didn't say anything right away.

"Ma'am, what exactly did you see?" Nick asked.

"Mrs. Kenley," the woman said, introducing herself. Her eyes were fixed on Nick and she didn't seem to even notice the other two men anymore.

Nick finally noticed her starting at him with a look of horror on her face. "Is there a problem Mrs. Kenley?" he asked.

Mrs. Kenley shook her head. "No, it's just...the man I saw leaving the house after I heard the yelling looks exactly like you," she said, pointing at Nick.

Nick frowned. "Me?"

Mrs. Kenley nodded. "Yeah. Except he was blonde, and a little shorter than you I guess, and not nearly as tan. I saw him from across the street, about thirty or so yards, but I swear he could be your twin."

Nick looked from Brass to Warrick, then back at Mrs. Kenley. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I swear on it. He got into a silver Ford Focus and sped away."

Brass smiled slightly. "Are you positive about the car?" he asked.

Mrs. Kenley smiled. "My son has the same model, only black. I would know a Focus anywhere. This one was beat up though. It didn't look like an old model year or anything. But it looked like it just came out of the junkyard because it was covered in mud and looked like it had gotten into an accident recently."

"Did you notice a license plate?" Warrick asked.

Mrs. Kenley shook her head. "No, I didn't watch long enough and didn't think to. I ran for the phone and called 911 when I saw the blood through the windows inside the house."

"Have you ever seen this man before?" Nick asked.

Mrs. Kenley shook her head. "Not until this morning when I saw him leave, unless you want to count seeing you."

* * *

"Come on Nicky," Catherine scoffed. "You don't really believe this woman, do you?"

Nick shrugged. "I don't understand why she would lie about it though. It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe she didn't see anything at all and didn't want to get in trouble for lying or something," Greg suggested.

Brass shook his head. "No, this woman was genuinely shocked. You should have seen her face when she saw Nick. She looked like she had seen a ghost. She was telling the truth, or deserves an Oscar for her performance."

Warrick nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I think she was telling the truth too."

"So you're telling me you think that Nick has an evil twin brother out there killing people?" Catherine asled in disbelief.

The entire graveyard shift, including Brass, were sitting in the layout room discussing Nick and Warrick's case. They were all intrigued by it, and worried at the same time. This was definitely not a normal occurance, and they all had their two cents to put in.

"Maybe it's a doppleganger," Grissom speculated. "There's a theory that everyone has an exact copy of themselves somewhere in the world that's their other part. This would make sense because Nick's a good guy, and this other guy is a killer. Their the same, but exact opposites."

"Nick's scuba diver in a tree theory made more sense than this. This is kind of a stretch guys. What are the chances that there's a guy who looks exactly like Nick, but with blonde hair, roaming around Vegas?" Sara said.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Nick said. "But let's be honest with ourselves, it wouldn't be that weird if it happened to me. I have a pretty strong track record for having bad things happen to me. This wouldn't be exactly out of the ordinary."

Grissom agreed, but argued against Nick and the others. "We're jumping the gun here guys. We don't even know who this suspect is for sure yet. What we're gonna do is wait for the DNA and fingerprint results to come back, and then go from there. This look-a-like might not even be our killer. Who knows, maybe Mrs. Kenley is on medication and she's seeing things. It's too soon to make any assumptions right now."

Everyone nodded in silent agreement and calmed down. They let the hype wash over them and reminded themselves they still had cases to solve with evidence that needed processing. If they had a problem with this 'doppleganger' that they had to deal with, they would deal with it when it came up for sure. Until then, it was normal lab work for them.

Nick and Warrick were left alone by the rest of their team in the layout room to process some of the things they took from the house. Nick was fingerprinting a book found out of place in the foyer, and Warrick was looking over the dirty laundry from the washroom. Neither one of them were having much luck and were beginning to get bored, so they struck up a conversation.

"When are you gonna get a girlfriend man?" Warrick asked teasingly and honestly at the same time.

Nick laughed. "When I feel like getting bitched at for how weird my hours are and how much time my job takes outta my life," he answered.

"Just because Tina does it to me doesn't mean some other girl will do it to you."

"That's probably true," Nick said, shrugging. "But I just never have the motivation to do anything other than work and sleep. And watch games with you so you can get away from your hectic marriage."

Warrick groaned. "It's even getting worse. I didn't think that was possible. She's making up excuses to yell at me. It's like living with a female Ecklie."

Nick laughed again. "Yeah, and I can't wait for that," he said sarcastically.

As the two friends were working in the layout room, Wendy was rechecking her DNA results as Mandy was rechecking her fingerprint results. They both needed to make sure there wasn't a mistake because what they found could pose to be a very big problem.

Nick had no idea how big of a problem it was actually going to be.


	2. Too Much Information

Mandy and Wendy walked up outside the layout room at exactly the same time. They took one look at each other and knew that what they were about to tell Nick was going to ruin his day. However neither one of them said anything as they just stood there and tried to decide what they should say to Nick. Moments later, Hodges walked up to them with the same graven expression on his face. 

"You go first," Mandy said to Hodges, who grimaced.

Wendy and Mandy went into the layout room behind Hodges. The trace tech stopped on the opposite side of the table from Nick and Warrick. The CSIs looked up at the techs and immediatly knew something was wrong. Before they could ask, Grissom, Catherine, Greg and Brass entered as well. The room was now completely filled up with the CSIs - and Brass - on one side of the table, and the techs on the other with their results printed out in their hands.

"What's going on?" Nick asked, starting to get nervous as to why everyone was in the layout room.

"We all got 911 pages from these three," Brass explained simply.

Hodges took a deep breath. "We felt that you should all know what's we found out, and wanted as few people to know as possible."

"What exactly did you guys find out?" Grissom asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"The only trace that I've processed so far came back to be your basic cooking oil, used on pots and pans as a nonstick layer," Hodges reported.

Grissom nodded slowly. "And that's supposed to mean what?"

"It was found on fingerprints lifted in the house," Mandy chimed in. "And it means that the fingerprints were planted."

"Whose fingerprints are they?" Warrick asked.

Mandy bit her bottom lip. "Nick's."

All eyes went from Mandy to Nick. The Texan froze and felt his heart jump into his throat. He looked at around his team with the same confused expression on his face that everyone else had as well. They were silent for some time before Brass spoke up.

"Please tell me you forgot to wear gloves and had oil on your hands from eating something," he said.

Nick shook his head. "No, I had gloves on. I didn't take them off until I got outside."

"Then how the hell did they get in the house?" Greg thought out loud.

"I triple checked them," Mandy said. "It was a definite match because they were so perfect. It's hard to prove, but they're definitely planted."

"But that's not the weirdest part," Wendy said. She looked down at the paper in her hands to make sure, then looked back up at Nick and the rest of the team. "Ya know the blood on the ceiling that said 'he's next' ?" Everyone nodded slowly. "Well...it's Nick's blood."

Everyone's jaw dropped and a defeaning silence took over the room. The lab techs handed their results to Grissom, who passed them to Nick and then the rest of the team. After what seemed like hours of no one saying anything, Nick broke the silence.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked. "How did this guy get my prints and my blood?"

"From your doctor," Wendy answered. "Or the hospital. It had chemicals in it that the doctors use to run standard blood tests."

Grissom turned to Nick. "When's the last time you went to the doctor's?"

"Uhhh...a couple weeks ago. They took some blood, but not enough to write on the ceiling with."

"Whoever wrote it added substances to it to make the blood thicker. They used a little more than a pint of blood to write it," Wendy added.

"Are you sure it was all mine?" Nick asked.

Wendy nodded. "All of it."

"That means he's after Nick," Catherine said, voicing what everyone else was thinking. "That's what he meant. Or he's trying to frame Nick for the murder. There's no way he could have known that Nick would be showing up to that scene."

"That's why he said 'he's next' instead of 'you're next' ," Nick said. "But I have no idea who the hell this guy is. All I know is apparently he looks just like me and hates me for some reason."

"Did you get any other hits?" Grissom asked.

Wendy and Mandy both shook their heads. Hodges stared at the table.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," Grissom said, turning to his team. "Finish processing all of the evidence we have left," he said to Warrick and Greg. "Catherine, go back to the house and look for anything that might have been missed or overlooked. I'm going to talk to Mrs. Kenley again and see if she remembers anything else probative."

"Why don't we put an APB out on this guy?" Brass suggested. "If he looks just like Nick, we could use Nick's picture and see if we can't get any other names. Someone's bound to know who this doppleganger is."

Grissom nodded. "That's what we're going to do. Get to work guys," he said. "Nick, come with me and Brass."

Nick followed the police captain and graveyard supervisor out of the layout room. The three men walked in silence all the way from the layout room to Doc Robbin's office. They entered without a word, following Grissom over to one of the autopsy tables. He motioned for Nick tp sit on the table and went over to Doc's desk after Nick had done so. They spoke in low tones so Nick couldn't hear. Brass did the same on his cell phone while he gave instructions for the APB on their suspect-Nick-look-a-like.

Nick sat patiently on the table until Doc Robbins and Grissom came back over with Brass joining them. The three older men stood in front of Nick, all with blank expressions on their faces that were still able to convey they concern for the CSI on the table.

"It's all set," Brass said to Grissom.

"Good," Grissom responded. "We're going to have to work pretty hard to keep the wrong people from finding out about this. But if we have to, screw it. I'd rather catch this guy however we have to."

Doc Robbins pulled a pair of gloves on and gently took Nick's left arm. He cleaned a spot on his vein on the inside of his elbow with alcohol before taking a syringe and sticking it in Nick's arm. He withdrew the necessary amount of blood, labeled it and gave it to Grissom, who also had gloves on now.

"Why did you do that?" Nick asked.

"To prove that you didn't write on that ceiling and that someone else took your blood," Grissom answered. "We're testing your blood for sedatives and sleep aids. I think whoever did this took your blood while you were asleep. You have needle marks on your arm."

Nick looked down at his arm and realized Grissom was right. He wondered how he hadn't noticed it before. "But what if it's not in my system anymore?"

Instead of answering the question outright, Grissom picked up a pair of tweezers from the tray on the table and reached up, plucking a few of Nick's hairs from his head. The younger man flinched back slightly, but didn't say anything.

"If it's not in your blood, it may still be in your hair. It stays longer in hair and skin. If we find out what he used, we could try to trace it back to him," Grissom explained. "We're going to do everything to get this guy."

Nick watched as Robbins cleaned his arm again before spreading a band-aid to cover the minute cut. "Should I be as worried as you guys seem to be about this?"

Grissom stopped labeling Nick's hair sample and looked up and the young CSI. He sighed slightly to himself. "I'm not sure yet."

* * *

Three hours later, back in the layout room with the rest of the team, Nick was starting to get worried. No one seemed to be finding anything helpful, but they all seemed to be nervous and afraid. That only made him scared, especially since none of them knew exactly what they were up against. Grissom had called another team meeting to collect what they had found out, which wasn't much.

"We still have so much evidence to process," Greg said, trying to bring some hope to the meeting.

"I can help you guys with that. I have nothing else to do," Nick said.

Grissom shook his head. "No, you can't. You're hands-off. Any evidence you touch could be thrown out because you're actually a suspect. We're doing everything we can to prove it was a set-up. You can't process anything, but you can't leave here either."

"Why?"

"I don't want you by yourself," Brass said. "I don't think any of us do. Until we know who this guy is and what he's trying to do, you're staying in plain sight of no less than five people."

Nick sighed and buried his face in his hands. "I hate stalkers."

Catherine rubbed his back soothingly. "Don't worry Nicky, we'll get him."

Just then Conrad Ecklie walked in. He waited until the door was closed behind him before he spoke. "Listen guys, I know this is really nerveracking and you want this guy behind bars. I know Nick didn't do what it looks like he did, but not everyone will believe that. We're not even sure who this other guy is, and there's some speculation as to if there really is a look-a-like."

"We have an eye witness and evidence supporting his blood and fingerprints were planted," Warrick said firmly.

Ecklie held up his hands. "I know that, and you know that. But we need to take it slow and get as much as we can against whoever this guy is. It's hard to convince someone that Nick has an evil twin."

Grissom nodded slowly. "We have an APB out using Nick's picture. Maybe we can get a hit off that. We're processing everything we have left and keeping Nick away from it all, but here to be safe. I don't care if we're totally over exaggerating, I'm not taking any chances."

"I'm not either," Ecklie agreed. "Let's just try to stay calm and get as much scientific proof as humanly possible."

After a brief conversation Nick didn't hear, Ecklie left. Nick folded his arms on the table and rested his head on his left forearm. He sighed heavily and let his tired eyes close.

"Okay guys, let's get back to work," Grissom said.

Everyone stood, Nick included. They all went off to their respective places to process whatever they had to, leaving Nick to roam the halls. He stopped in to the break room at least five times and got coffee that he never finished. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep for a few days.

Nick wondered when he would get just a small patch of normalcy in his life.

* * *

Thanks for the reviews, I really appreciate it.

There'll be a lot more action in the upcoming chapters. In the next chapter I'll be introducing a new character that will turn into a NOC relationship portaining to the story's plot.

Hope you're enjoying so far.


	3. Keep It Coming

"Hey, jackass." 

Under any other circumstances, Nick would have just kept walking. He wouldn't have even heard the female voice say anything at all, nevermind think it was directed at him. But this wasn't under normal circumstances. He was tired, bored, and wasn't working a case that needed all of his attention. He had nothing to do but wander around the halls, and he was currently passing through the recpetion area after coming back inside after getting some fresh air, and sneaking a cigarette. It had been pretty cold outside, but Nick would have rathered staying out there then inside.

Instead of keeping up his charade of walking aimlessly around the lab, Nick stopped and turned around. His eyes fell on the very attractive brunette standing in front of Judy's desk. She was about five foot six and had a lean figure. She looked very tired, but mad nontheless. Nick started walking up the this young lady, and he noticed that the closer he got, the more her expression changed from mad to confused.

"Can I help you?" Nick asked politely, ignoring the curious glances from Judy behind her desk.

The brunette shook her head slowly. "You're not...I'm sorry. I just saw you outside and thought you were someone else. I mean, you look exactly the same. But you're not him, are you?"

"Depends on who you're looking for," Nick said. "I'm Nick Stokes. Who do you think I am?"

The brunette blushed slightly. "I don't really know. But this guy had green eyes, yours are brown. His voice was different, and there's just something different about you too that I can't explain. This is weird."

"That's kinda been the theme of my night," Nick said more to himself than her. "You probably won't believe me, but we're looking for a guy who looks exactly like me except for a few details. He's wanted for uh...questioning. Would you mind coming with me, Miss..."

"Sam Matthews," the brunette said, introducing herself.

"I just wanna ask you some...damn it," Nick cursed, remembering he can't have anything to do with the case. "Would you mind answering some questions from a colleague of mine about this guy?"

Sam nodded. "Sure."

Nick took out his cell phone and dialed Warrick's number. "Hey man, I need your help," he said when Warrick picked up.

"What's wrong?" Warrick asked.

Nick shook his head. "Nothing. We have another witness that came in and thought I was that guy. I'm not supposed to do anything, everyone else is outta the lab and Grissom isn't good with people."

"Makes sense. Greg and I are just finishing up some of this evidence, I'll meet you in the layout room in like ten minutes with Brass. Ask her some questions, there's no harm in that. We'll lie if we have to," Warrick said with a small laugh.

"If you get me fired I'll kick your ass," Nick joked before he hung up the phone. "Okay," he said to Sam, "follow me."

He lead her to the layout room, where they took seats on opposites sides of the table. Sam was looking around her at everything else going on in the lab. After a few moments, she looked back at Nick and tried not to blush again.

"Alright, so this guy didn't give you a name?" Nick asked.

Sam shook her head. "No. I don't think so, I can't really remember. I met him at Bar 911 last night. He seemed like a nice guy at first and he bought me and my friends a couple drinks. Then before I knew it I was drunk and he asked to borrow my car. He said he was going to LA or something for business. He said he had to leave right away, so he wouldn't be able to talk to me for a while. That's why when I just saw you outside, I thought you were him. He was an ass and probably stole my car."

Nick nodded slowly. "So you didn't..." He trailed off, not sure how to word this the right way. "You never went back to his place and he never went to yours or anything, right?"

Sam blushed again, but smiled as well. "I know what you're asking. I didn't sleep with him. I know I'm too old to go bar hopping and get drunk like that, but I swear it's not an everyday thing and it's totally uncharacteristic of me. But it was a girl's night out and I got carried away."

"Fair enough," Nick said with a small smile of his own. "Did he give you his phone number or anything like that?"

"No, and thankfully I didn't give him mine. The last thing I remember was getting up to go to the bathroom with my friend Jess, and then it all goes black." Sam brushed her brown hair away from her face, and that's when Nick saw the bruise on her forhead.

"So you don't remember hitting your head?" Nick asked. Sam frowned in confusion. "You have a bruise on your forhead. That's probably why you don't remember anything after that."

Sam gently touched her forhead until she felt the bruise sting. "I woke up at Jess' house and figured she drove me back there to spend the night. She was still asleep when I got up and I needed to get some things done, so I left. I didn't even notice it until just now."

Before Nick could say anything else, Brass and Warrick walked in. Warrick had his kit with him and Brass was taking out his notebook. Both men had a sense of excitement about them because they were finally somewhere with this bizarre case. Sam told Brass and Warrick everything she had just told Nick, and the part about her possibly passing out sparked an interest in Brass.

"That happened to Nick," the police captain said.

Nick looked at Brass in confusion. "It did?"

Brass shrugged. "Well, kinda. Grissom thinks so anyway. Maybe he used the same thing on her that he did on you."

"Do you mean like, a date rape drug?" Sam asked nervously.

"Possibly," Warrick answered. "If you'd allow us, we'd like to take a sample of your blood and test it to see if he did use anything on you."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, sure. Anything you guys need."

As Warrick was drawing her blood, Brass continued questioning. "Did he mention Nick at all? Or say his name was Nick?"

Sam shook her head. "No. He might have told me his name, and I'd know it if I hear it again. But it wasn't Nick. I think it was Dave or something like that. He was a complete jerk."

"Did you file a police report about your car?" Nick asked, unable to help it.

"Yeah, but they said they were busy and it could take a while," Sam said.

"Well now it's very important to a very important case, and seeing as how I'm captain I'll get that take care of," Brass said.

Warrick labeled and initialed Sam's blood before sitting back down next to Brass. "I think that's all we can do right now," he said. "If you'd go with the captain, he'll get another description of your car and get an APB out right away. I'll get this blood to tox."

Sam went with Brass, and Nick went with Warrick to drop off the blood sample with Henry in tox. Then the pair headed for the breakroom where they hoped they could relax for a little bit.

* * *

Three hours later, Nick was called into the conference room where the rest of the team already was. He was followed in moments later by Brass and Sam. Sam stood nervously behind the rest of the sitting graveyard shift and Brass went to the other side of the room where Henry, Grissom and Ecklie were standing.

"You're still here?" Nick asked Sam.

She nodded. "Yeah. Filing a police report isn't as easy as it sounds."

Brass' cell phone rang, and he immediatly picked it up. The conversation was solely on the other end of the line and lasted only a few moments before Brass snapped the phone shut and looked up at everyone else.

"We got seven hits on Nick's picture," he reported. "Six of them came back as being Nick. The other one was identified as Dan Marshall. Vartann's tracking down the guy who called it in right now."

Sam's eyes lit up. "That was his name. Dan, not Dave."

Ecklie shook his head slowly. "Who is she and why is she here?" he asked, his question legitamate but rude all the same.

"Her name is Sam Matthews," Warrick said. "She's another witness of sorts."

"And another victim," Henry added. "Both hers and Nick's blood had GHB and Rohypnol in them. Both are considered date rape drugs that result in relaxation, a drunk feeling and loss of consciousness. Nick's GHB level was higher because it was injected right into his bloodsteam. It was almost a fatal amount."

Nick glanced at Warrick, then back at Henry. "What?"

Henry nodded. "It could have killed you. It probably just felt like any other time you've been overtired and didn't notice the difference. He must have noticed his mistake because Sam's levels were more controled and intended only for drugging her, not killing her."

"What if he was trying to kill Nick?" Catherine asked, worry plauging her voice.

"That doesn't make sense," Grissom said. "He did it to take Nick's blood and write 'he's next' with it. He's intending to kill Nick later, not when he drugged him."

"Thanks Griss, that makes me feel a lot better man," Nick said sarcastically. He forgot about Grissom's comment when another thought took over his mind. "Wait. If he injected it into my bloodstream, that means he's been in my house. He knows where I live, and got in. How the hell did he do that?"

Grissom and Brass exchanged puzzled glances. "That's why you can't go home," Grissom said. "Not until we sweep your house for bugs and put a uniform there to watch your house at all times."

"What about my dog?" Nick asked.

Catherine laughed slightly. "Your life is in danger, and you're worried about Maverick?"

"Well his life is technically in danger too," Nick said.

"Marshall had to have drugged Maverick too," Warrick said out of the blue. "That dog doesn't just ignore random people in the house," he said, speaking from experience.

"Maybe he thought it was Nick," Greg suggested. "They apparently look the same."

Warrick shook his head. "Trust me, Maverick would be able to tell the difference."

"Now you have to let me go home," Nick said to Grissom and Brass.

"You can go home and get him, but you're both coming back here," Brass said.

"You're gonna let me have a dog in the lab?" Nick asked Ecklie and Grissom.

Ecklie nodded. "Why not? You're old enough to handle a dog. Just keep him in the break room. We can make that your temporary house for now."

Nick sighed. "Fine. I'll go get him now." Nick stood up, only to be pulled back down in his seat by Warrick.

"Not until we check out your house or one of us goes with you," Brass said.

"I'll go with you, and Sam can come with us because she needs a ride home anyway cuz Marshall stole her car," Warrick said, and everyone else nodded in agreement to that.

Nick sighed again. "I'm thirty-six years old and I have to be babysat because a crazy guy who looks just like me is probably trying to kill me. And that worst part is, this is in no way surprising to anyone."


	4. Be Yourself

Nick was counting the tiles on the ceiling for what had to have been the tenth time in the last hour. He had come into the breakroom a little over two hours ago after showering and changing his clothes. He was now laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling and distracting himself with anything and everything possible. Maverick had fallen asleep on the floor fifteen minutes ago after Nick had worn him out due to his boredom. Now he had absolutely nothing to do and was looking for any type of entertainment that was available. He was just about to throw a pillow at his golden retriever when Brass and Grissom came into the break room, inturrupting his plans. 

"We have some news on Dan Marshall," Grissom reported.

Nick sat up. "Yeah?"

Brass nodded slowly and looked down at the paper in his hand. "This is his recent credit card activity. He booked a flight to LA, where he spent a lot of money at a salon and a plastic surgery establishment. He then spent a few days in Texas before he stopped using his credit card two days ago."

Nick shook his head slowly. "How long have I been stuck in here?"

"He left for LA the night Sam showed up here. It hasn't been too long," Grissom said. "We're more worried about what he spent his money on."

Nick's tired mind finally made sense of it. "Mrs. Kenley said he looked just like me except he had blonde hair and I'm tanner. You think he's trying to make himself look exactly like me?"

Grissom sighed. "It appears that way. His friend who ID'd him told us he's originally from Chicago, which is why he must havent went to Texas, to get the accent down. I don't know what he's planning, but whatever it is, he knows what he's doing."

* * *

Maverick awoke with a start when the door to the break room entered and Sam came in shyly, her eyes down at the floor. Warrick followed her with amusement on his face. He patted Maverick's head, and then Nick's as he walked by his best friend and over to the counter to make coffee for the three of them.

"Brass and Grissom agreed that it'd be a good idea to keep you two here so nothing bad happens, and to keep each other company. I know Maverick can get a little bored with Nick sometimes, as we all do," Warrick said jokingly.

Nick laughed. "It's not my fault he's not even half my age and won't even catch a ball anymore and that I get bored easily. You would too if you weren't allowed to work and couldn't leave the lab."

Warrick nodded. "That's true. You should put in for overtime on this, just to piss Ecklie off. In fact, I'll pay you to do it."

"Go get me Wendy's and it's a deal," Nick responded.

"Oh, me too," Sam added. "I haven't eaten anything in over a day and could really use a double cheeseburger."

"Make that two," Nick said. "And get a lot of fries. Maverick always ends up stealing most of mine. Between him and Greg, I won't get any."

Warrick laughed slightly. "Alright, I'll get a bad full of fries just for you man," he said as he walked out of the room after handing Nick and Sam their cups of coffee, leaving them alone in the room with Maverick.

The golden retriever got up from his spot on the floor and stretched for a minute before bouding over to Nick, wagging his tail. He sat in front of Nick and rested his head on his owner's knees. He looked up hopefully, his sad brown eyes contradicting his wagging tail.

"I don't have any food boy," Nick said. "Go bother Greg or something."

Maverick just stared up at Nick, his tail the only thing moving. Sam smiled and reached out with her free hand and scratched behind the dog's ears.

"You're a cutie," she said, then blushed violently when she looked at Nick, who was smiling in amusement. "Maverick, I mean."

Nick smiled wider at her shyness and decided to change the subject. "Sorry you have to be stuck here too," he said sincerely.

Sam shrugged. "It's not that bad, better than work. Besides, it must be worse for you because you probably think I'm some crazy person who gets drunks and sleeps with random guys. Which I wouldn't blame you for."

Nick shook his head. "No, that's not what I think. I think Dan Marshall is a jackass and needs to be put in jail as soon as humanly possible."

"You don't seem too weirded out by all of this," Sam said.

"I kind of have a track record for this kinda thing."

Sam looked into Nick's eyes for a moment, then it dawned on her. "Oh my God, you're that guy that got kidnapped and buried alive a few years ago," she said.

Nick nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's me."

"I'm sorry, it's just I knew you looked familiar and I remember reading about it and seeing it on TV. I didn't mean to bring it up."

"It's okay, really," Nick said. "I actually haven't really talked about it before, except with Warrick, but it doesn't bother me anymore."

Sam nodded slightly. "Well that's good. It must have been terrible, I can't even imagine anything like that." She looked down at his hands and noticed a discoloration in between two of his fingers on his right hand. "You don't seem like the kind of guy that would smoke," she said, thinking out loud more than anything.

Nick looked down at his hand, then back up at her. "I don't much, just when stuff like this happens it's hard not to. I'll take that as a compliment though, I guess," he said with a smile.

Sam smiled as well. "Yeah, it is. I mean, you don't seem like the kind of guy who'd go to a bar and hit on random girls just to get laid like that other guy. You just have something different about you."

The two easily fell into a conversation now that they were somewhat acquinted and it wasn't awkward anymore. They were so engrossed with talking to each other that they didn't even notice it had been over an hour since Warrick had left before he returned with their food.

"Sorry guys," Warrick apologized. "Traffic was terrible and I got diverted to a crime scene for a few minutes to help Greg process a Jeep. This thing was trashed beyond belief."

Nick shrugged. "No worries." He smiled when Warrick handed him a bad, full of french fries. "You actaully got me a bag full of fries?"

Warrick nodded. "Yeah. And the kid thought it was so cool I actaully odered that, he only charged me a buck for it. It was pretty awesome."

The three of them sat down at the table and ate their food, not engaging in too much conversation because they were all extremely hungry. On occassion, Nick would catch himself glancing over at Sam for no particular reason other than to admire just how beautiful she actually was. He tried to stop doing that, but gave up after a while and realized he didn't care what he was doing at the moment anymore.

Mere minutes after they were done eating, Brass and Grissom returned with the same expressions on their faces.

"Dan Marshall has successfully removed any and all remained trace of himself other than what we already have," Brass said flatly.

Grissom sighed in addition. "And what he already have isn't too helpful, just disturbing. I consulted a psychoanalyst, and he just agreed with what I said so that didn't get us anywhere either."

Nick frowned slightly. "What did you say?"

"That this guy isn't happy with the life he has, so he's literally trying to take yours in every meaning of that statement. He doesn't want to just be _like_ you, he wants to **be** you."

Nick shook his head. "Ya know, you have really terrible ways of trying to make me feel better Griss."

"Sorry," Grissom apologized. "But I don't think you understand how serious this is Nick. I know this is kind of run of the mill for you now, but this is worse than anything before. Someone is trying to become you."

"I understand that. I know it's serious, that's why I haven't broken out of the lab yet and wandered around. I just don't see how you're gonna catch this guy if I'm stuck in here."

"No," Grissom, Brass and Warrick said in unison, all in firm tones.

"I didn't even say anything yet," Nick protested.

Warrick shook his head. "I don't give a damn. I'm actually revoking your right to speak. You don't have decision making privileges anymore because I know exactly what you're thinking."

Nick threw up his hands dramatically. "That's not fair. You can't take away my right to speak."

"I can," Brass said. "And I will. I unfortunately can't stop you from coming up with little schemes in that head of yours, but I can force you to not say them out loud. So don't waste your time because you are not leaving here until this guy is in jail."

"Will you just let me explain what I think we can do?"

Grissom shook his head. "No. Because we already know it involves you doing something wreckless and putting your life in jeopardy because you think it'll work."

"It will work," Nick argued.

Brass shrugged. "I don't care. I'm the police captain, so your say doesn't go as far as mine. End of discussion."

With that, Grissom, Brass and Warrick left the break room to attend to other matters, leaving Nick and Sam alone again. Before the door closed, Nick had to get the last word in.

"That's real mature," he said sarcastically, but the three men leaving the room didn't care. Nick sighed heavily. "I feel like I just got grounded for something ridiculously stupid."

Sam smiled slightly. "It's nice they care so much about you though."

"Yeah, they care so much they won't even listen to me. It's not even a stupid idea. Well...it's not _that_ stupid."

Sam laughed and went over to the couch where Maverick was laying. She sat next to the dog and started petting him before looking back up at Nick. "They know you too well."

Nick sighed again. "Yeah, and unfortunately this Dan Marshall guy wants to know me well too."

As if on cue, Sam's cell phone started ringing. She was a little surprised and cruious as to who it was. She took it from her purse on the floor and looked at the caller ID, not recognizing the number. With a slight frown, she flipped the phone open and held it to her ear before answering.

"Hello?"

She listened to the person on the other end of the line for a few seconds before her face went pale. She turned around abruptly and looked all around her frantically. Upon not seeing something she was expecting to, she snapped the phone shut and dropped it on the floor, disregarding it.

"What's the matter?" Nick asked, starting to get nervous.

"T-that was Dan Marshall," Sam said, her voice shaking slightly. "He said he's int he building and is watching us."

Nick immediatly started for the door, but stopped after only two steps. On the other side of the glass was a man about his height, his face wrapped in white cloth. Dark hair was sticking out from the bandages. A tanned hand reached out and opened the door, entering quickly. Before Nick even had time to think of what to do, Dan Marshall had closed all the shades, isolating them in the break room. Sam had gone over to where Nick was standing next to the table and stood next to him, glued to his side.

"How the hell did you get in here?" Nick asked.

Marshall turned around and faced Nick. "It's easier than you'd think. Now shut up."

"You're really planning on trying to do something to me where there's dozens of CSIs and cops wandering around just outside? Anyone could walk in at any minute. You can't do anything to me here."

Marshall shook his head slowly. "Not 'me', 'we'."

Nick felt Sam move closer to him, and he could tell she was scared. He gently rested his right hand in the small of her back and hoped that might helped her calm down a little. Truth was, he was having some trouble staying calm himself.

"Listen man, she has nothing to do with this. Leave her alone, she's not even involved," Nick said, his voice steady.

"She wasn't supposed to be invloved. But then she left me for you," Marshall almost yelled.

Sam shook her head. "I was never with you. I was drunk and met you once."

"But he's still better than me, isn't he?" Marshall asked. Sam didn't say anything. "That's not gonna happen again. No one will be able to tell the difference between me and Nick because there will be no more me and Nick. Just me. I'm Nick Stokes now."

* * *

Sorry it took so long to update, I've been very busy. Reviews are greatly appreciated. Next chapter should be up soon, and I promise the action will continue to pick up.

Hope you're enjoying it so far.


	5. Insight into Reality

Warrick was holding Sam by her shoulders and trying to keep her calm. He was starting to succeed to an effective degree and was glad that the other people in the room weren't interfering with him doing so. They were Grissom's office with Grissom, Catherine, and Brass, all of whom were having trouble comprehending what happened and how. 

"Take a deep breath," Warrick said calmly. "I need you to tell me what happened."

Sam got herself under control and relaxed somewhat. "Me and Nick were just in the room, and the my phone rang and it was Marshall. He said he was watching us, and I freaked out. Nick went to the door, but Marshall was already there. He came in and shut all the shades and said how he was Nick now or something. Then he asked me who I'd rather be with and I was too scared to say anything so he went to hit me with his gun but Nick grabbed it and then it went off."

"Did Nick get shot?" Brass asked.

Sam shook her head. "No. It got his hand a little bit, but it wasn't too bad. I don't think so anyway. Then Marshall panicked and forced Nick to leave with him. He said he'd shoot me if he didn't and Nick just went with him. He didn't even put up a fight. I was so scared. I'm sorry I didn't try to help or stop him, I just-"

Catherine stepped forward and softly cut Sam off. "It's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. Do you have any idea where Marshall would have taken Nick?"

"No," Sam said sadly.

Hours passed with nothing good coming of them. They found out Marshall enetered from the back and no one noticed him making his way to where Nick and Sam had been. They know had his cell phone number, which they were tracing, but not having much luck with. They were all growing impatient and more worried with each second that passed.

Then Warrick's phone rang.

He saw Marshall's number on called ID, and got the okay from Brass to answer it. He put it on speaker phone for everyone to hear. The more ears, the more clues they might be able to find.

"Hello?" Warrick answered, his voice strangely steady.

"Hey man," came Nick's voice from the other end.

"Nick?"

"Yeah. I stole Marshall's phone cuz I figured you guys were looking for me."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. "Where are you?" Warrick asked. "Can you see any signs or buildings?"

"No, of course not," Nick said matter-of-factly. "There's no signs or building out near Lake Mead."

"You're at Lake Mead?"

"I must be. All I can see are trees, and the moon on the ground."

Warrick frowned in confusion and looked up and Grissom. "He sounds like he's in shock."

"Nicky, are you in the woods or on the beach?"

"I must be in the woods, cuz I can see bears. No, wait, those are squirrels. I can see the water though. It's black or something."

"Can you tell which side you're on?"

Nick scoffed at that. "I don't have a compus on me man. Which reminds me...bring me a sweatshirt or something. It's fucking cold out here."

Warrick laughed slightly. "Okay bro, I will. Just stay with me okay? Are you hurt at all?"

"My hand and stomach hurt," Nick said. "I think it's from that blue stuff I had to drink."

Warrick felt his heart skip a beat. "What blue stuff?"

Nick sighed. "I don't know. The blue stuff that Marshall made me drink that was in his car."

"Did it make you get sick?"

"Not yet, but I feel like I'm going to. People aren't supposed to drink that stuff I don't think."

Grissom crossed over to where Warrick was standing with the phone and spoke into it to Nick. "Nick, what did it taste like?"

"Nothing good. It smelt like that stuff you put on the car to make it stop snowing or make it stop being hot out."

Grissom shook his head slowly. "What are you talking about Nicky?"

Nick sighed again. "That blue stuff. I don't think it's working though because I'm wicked cold."

Grissom's eyes light up, like they do when he solves a hard crossword puzzle. "Anti-freeze," he said more than asked.

"That's what I said," Nick replied. "Oh, hey Warrick, tell Sam I'm sorry that happened. Marshall's wicked creepy and I didn't know he was going to try to hurt her too. She's okay though, right?"

Sam smiled as Warrick answered for her. "Yeah man, she's fine. Just sit tight okay? We're on our way. You're gonna be alright."

* * *

Under an hour later, Warrick and Sam were kneeling on the wet, cold ground next to Nick's shivering body in the woods of Lake Mead. They were able to trace the cell phone once they were connected with it and found Nick easier than they thought they were going to be able to. Brass and the paramedics were a few minutes behind because of their gear, so Warrick and Sam had pushed ahead to get to Nick faster.

Once they found him, Warrick immediatly threw a blanket over his friend and tied a belt around Nick's left arm to stop the bleeding in his hand. Dan Marshall's discarded cell phone was lying on the ground next to Nick, forgotten for the time being. The Texan had minor cuts and bruises scattered on his body, but nothing looked too bad. The cut on his hand from the bullet was the worst of it.

Warrick and Sam kneeled as close to Nick as they could without potentially hurting him more to try and warm him up a little bit. He was shaking pretty violently, but it didn't seem to both him too much. Nick smiled up at them gratefully and didn't know why his smile widended when he felt Sam's warm hand slip into his cold one, but he didn't care at the moment.

"Where did your shirt go?" Warrick asked.

Nick frowned. "I don't know. The squirrels might have taken it or something."

Warrick laughed softly and looked over at Sam. "He's like this even when he's not in shock."

Nick shook his head. "I'm not in shock, I'm fine. I just have a handache and a stomach ache. That's completely normal. What's not normal is being in the woods with no shirt on."

The paramedics arrived soon after, and checked Nick out quickly before loading him onto the stretcher and making their way back to the waiting ambulance. It was harder going back then coming in, but they managed to do it and sent Nick on his way to the hospital. Eager to see what the damage was, the team followed closely and sat patiently in the waiting room for the doctor, who came out to the promptly.

Dr. Lasker shook hands with Grissom before addressing everyone. "Mr. Stokes is going to be fine. You got to him just in time though. The only problems are minor blood loss from his wound, slight hypothermia and anti-freeze poisoning. For that, we had to pump his stomach and then fill it with activated charcoal. We put him on an ethanol drip to flush out his kidneys, so he's going to be asleep for quite some time. You can see him when he wakes up."

Grissom thanked Lasker and then turned to his team. "Okay guys, Warrick and Sam are going to stay here with Nick. Brass, get an officer here and send everyone else out looking for Marshall. Catherine, I want you to get back to the lab and get all the evidence finished. I'm going to see the shrink."

* * *

When Nick finally did wake up, he had a terrible stomach ache, along with an equally as bad headache. He opened his eyes slowly and looked around him, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the room he was in. He soon recognized Warrick and Sam sitting near his bed, and he realized he was in the hospital. Again.

"How ya feelin man?" Warrick asked.

Nick ran his hand through his hair. "Hungover," he responded groggily. "What the hell happened?"

"You don't remember anything?" Sam asked.

Nick shook his head. "No, only something about squirrels fighting with Grissom or something." Nick shook his head again. "That can't be right..."

Warrick laughed lightly. "You were in shock from the cold and blood loss. Marshall attacked you when you were in the break room with Sam and left you out in the woods."

"I remember that now. But why does my stomach hurt?"

"He made you drink anti-freeze," Warrick answered. "The doctors had to pump your stomach and then use charcoal or something to get rid of all of it. You're gonna be fine though."

Nick nodded slowly, then turned to Sam. "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No, I'm fine. He left with just you," she said softly. "He didn't look too pleased with me though."

"I remember his asking you if you'd rather be with me or him. Why does he think that matters? Why does he have to drag you into this?" Nick asked rhetorically, but Warrick answered.

"He's trying to torture you I guess. I bet Grissom will get a better answer from his shrink though."

* * *

Grissom sat in the large leather chair across from Dr. Hailan, who was pondering over the situation Grissom had just presented him with. Hailan was nearly seventy-years-old and was one of the most intelligent and insightful people Grissom had ever met. To say that Hailan had been a mentor to Grissom would be a severe understatement. He was nothing less than a father figure to the entamologist, who had looked up to him ever since he could remember, especially after his father had passed away when he was only nine-years-old. Grissom felt comfortable coming to him for anything, even for advice about how to help someone else he cared dearly about.

"This is worse than I first thought," Hailan said, sitting up in his chair. "Did he attempt to kill Nick?"

Grissom shook his head. "No. He just left him in the woods after apparently beating him up a little and making him drink anti-freeze. I think his intention was to torture him, not kill him."

Hailan nodded slowly. "I've only read about this, never actually seen it before. Dan Marshall is trying to become Nick Stokes because Nick's life is the one he wants. It's just like what happened with Nigel Crane, except Marshall seems to be taking it to the next step."

"How dangerous do you think this guy is?" Grissom asked.

"He seems to be getting more and more dangerous as his obsession intensifies," Hailan answered. "Soon, there's going to be little he can do to control himself. It'll be a compulsion for him to become Nick in every and all aspects. He wants to replace Nick."

"What can be done?"

"Nothing by you or anyone else," Hailan said. "Nick has the life most people want. He's handsome, successful, likable, and apparently there's some girl involved."

Grissom sighed. "There always is."

"No one can help Nick beat Marshall. Marshall wants to be Nick. Nick's the only one who is truly Nick."

As stupid as that may have sounded, Grissom understood soundly. Marshall wants to be Nick, so Nick's the only one that can do anything about it.

"I wish I could help you and your friend more, but it's up to Nick," Hailan said with a small sigh. "But from what I've heard about him, I have a feeling he'll be able to do just that."


	6. Long Day

Nick stood on his front lawn next to Sam and Warrick and watched through the window as three bomb squad guys, Brass, and two other cops searched his house. They had been in there for over an hour, sweeping everything to make sure it was okay for him to go inside. They didn't want to miss anything and Brass wouldn't let them leave until he was sure it was completely safe for Nick and Sam to go into. 

"Thank God you don't watch porn Nicky," Warrick said, thinking out loud. "That would have been fairly awkward. For all of us."

Nick laughed. "Yeah, you've got a point there. I bet Brass would have 'confiscated' it or something. That would have been more than awkward."

Maverick whined quietly and rolled over onto his side, laying up against Nick's legs. They were all tired and hungry, but Maverick was the only one making a scene about it. The Texan ignored his dog and continued watching the sweep of his house, which was almost finished. Brass herded the other man out of Nick's house and they exited out the front door and across the lawn to their respective cars. Brass spoke briefly with one of the officers before going over to Nick, Warrick and Sam.

"Okay," Brass started firmly. "Neither one of you are allowed to leave under any circumctances. Don't open the door for anyone unless they call you and inform you they're standing outside of your door and I give you the okay. We have a tap on your phone, so if Marshall tries to contact you we'll know. An officer will be stationed outside at all times, as well as surveillance cameras. All for your safety."

"Can we watch TV?" Nick asked, wondering what it was they would be able to do rather than the opposite.

Brass nodded. "Yeah. You can watch TV, use the kitchen and bathroom, and go anywhere in the house. Just don't leave, or let anyone you don't know in."

"Easy enough. I could handle it when I was little, I think I can do it now," Nick said with a shrug.

"Let's hope so," Brass said. "If you see or hear anything suspicious, call me right away. I don't care if it's a false alarm, I wanna know right away. Don't do anything stupid."

Nick held up his hands defensively. "What makes you think I'd do something stupid?"

Brass just looked at him with that sarcastic look of his. "I know you all too well Nicky. Just be a good boy and watch some TV with this nice girl would ya?"

Nick sighed dramatically. "Yes mother."

* * *

Sam distracted herself from the fact that she didn't feel weird about being alone with Nick in his house by looking around at her surroundings. The house was the perfect size for a guy and his dog, and it was apparent both lived there. Sports magazines, DVDs, CDs, and dog bones were neatly disorganized throughout the living room. It was decorated nicely, but definitely lacked a feminine touch. Nick either didn't care how his house looked or didn't notice Sam was checking it out because he just sank into the larg leather couch with Maverick curled up at his feet on the floor.

"Sorry you're stuck here with me again," Nick said. "I guess they wanted us in the same place to make it easier. Please, make yourself at home. We could be here a while."

Sam sat down on the couch next to, but not too close, to Nick and he handed her the remote. "Put whatever you want on," he said as he stood and went into the kitchen. "I'll try and find some food for us to eat."

Sam flipped through the channels for a few minutes until she found an Episode of _Entourage_ on HBO that she hadn't seen yet. She started watching that when Nick returned to the living room with a defeated look on his face.

"Brass took all of my alcohol. Like, all of it. And I have no food left because I was stuck at the lab for so long. We're kind of outta luck."

Sam smiled. "It's okay, I'm not even that hungry anyway."

Nick smiled as well. "Well that's good." He turned his attention to the TV and his smile widened in approval upon seeing _Entourage _playing on the screen. "This is a great show."

Sam nodded in agreement. "One of my favorites."

They fell into a comfortable silence and continued watching Vince, Eric, Turtle, Drama and Ari gallavanting around Los Angeles, having a good time. Apparently there was a marathon on, because they watched four episodes before they even realized it. They spoke occassionally, but none of it forced or awkward. Halfway through an episode both of them had seen enough times where they were talking more than watching it, Nick realized how late it actually was and wondered when the last time Sam slept had been.

"You look pretty tired," Nick said.

"I'm not used to staying up all the time like you are," she teased. "It has been a while since I slept or even got to shower."

"You can shower here," Nick offered, almost too quickly. "You can borrow some of my clothes too if you want."

"I don't wanna be any trouble," Sam said politely.

Nick shook his head. "It's no big deal. I don't care. You look like you could use it."

Sam couldn't disagree, so she gave in. With Nick's instruction, she went into his bedroom and over to his dresser to retrieve some clothes. She glanced around the bedroom that smelled better than any guy's room she'd ever been in before. The walls were painted a dark blue that matched the comforter and sheets on the bed on the left. There wasn't much in the room, but just enough to make it look nice. Sam chose a pair of navy blue pajama pants and a short sleeved grey t-shirt from the dresser before heading out of the room and acorss the hall into the bathroom.

The only bathroom Sam had seen cleaner than Nick's was her own. For a single guy, everything was neatly put away and all the surfaces were clean. Fresh towels were hanging from the towel rack. Sam smiled to herself. When Nick had been so quick to offer, she had figured he either didn't have anything to hide, or didn't care. Now she knew he had nothing to hide, and that fact impressed her because most guys were the opposite.

Sam was glad she had agreed to take a shower and change into some of Nick's clean clothes. She felt much better after, although she was still tired. She put her clothes with her jacket and purse on the table near the front door and had to stifle a yawn as she returned to the couch next to Nick.

"Do you want to go sleep in my bed?" Nick asked.

Sam shook her head. "No, I'm alright. I'm tired but don't wanna sleep."

"I get that a lot too."

Despite what they said, both Nick and Sam had fallen asleep on the couch within the hour. They were sitting closer together than they had been before, now close enough so that when Sam drifted to sleep she slid forward slightly under her head rested against Nick's shoulder. Nick's own head had drooper as he fell asleep and his cheek was now resting on the top of Sam's head. Not to be left out, Maverick curled up on the couch to Nick's left and rested his head on Nick's left thigh, falling asleep as well.

* * *

Nick woke with a start when he heard Maverick's shrill barking echo throughout the house. The golden retriever was somewhere down the hall and came running into the living room just as Sam was waking up as well. For whatever reason, Nick didn't notice the smoke or flames beginning to engulf his house until almost a minute after he had first opened his eyes. 

Nick sat up and felt his heart drop to his stomach. He looked around him quickly, having trouble believing what he was seeing. They were surrounded by a roaring fire, the worst of it in front of them near the front door. Sam was so surprised that she couldn't say anything. She was still half asleep and everything felt surreal to her. It was a good thing Nick was wide awake now because they were running out of time.

Nick pulled himself and Sam to their feet and immediatly headed for the back door. They were crouching low to the floor to try and avoid the smoke, but it was getting thicker and thicker by the second. They were halfway across the kitchen when Nick heard a loud snap and looked up at the ceiling in time to see a flaming piece of the ceiling falling towards them. Nick grabbed Sam's shoulder and pushed her back, moving himself back as well. The piece of wood hit his left shoulder with such force that he fell to the side on the floor.

Wincing in pain, Nick managed to get it off of him without too much trouble. The ceiling in the kitchen was slowly falling down, so Nick had to reroute their escape somehow. He moved in front of Sam, who was so scared she couldn't even think, and lead her into his bedroom. As he threw open his window, he thought about how lucky he was that his house was only one story and not two.

Nick quickly helped Sam out of the window and onto the front lawn before crawling through it himself and grabbing her hand. They ran across the front lawn and made it to the street when Nick heard Maverick barking again.

He turned to go running back to the house, but was stopped before he had to. Maverick jumped through the still open window and hit the grass running. He sprinted across the lawn and over to where Nick and Sam stood in the middle of the street, shaking from what had just happened and the cold Vegas night.

* * *

When everyone else arrived, the first thing they noticed was Nick's bleeding shoulder under the blanket that was thrown over him and Sam. It was the first thing they saw as they walked up to their friend, who was answering a firefighter's questions. 

"Are you guys okay?" Catherine asked.

Nick nodded slowly. "Yeah, we're okay."

Catherine, Warrick, Grissom, and Greg nodded slowly. They tore their eyes away from Nick's shoulder and noticed that on his other side, Sam was clutching his arm in a way that suggested she wasn't going to be letting go any time soon. She was still shaken up and wouldn't go with anyone that wasn't Nick.

"So how the hell did the house catch on fire?!" Brass yelled from about twenty feet away at the officer, who shrugged weakly and looked down at his feet. Brass shook his head fiercely before storming over to where the CSIs and Sam were standing. "I'm sorry guys," Brass apologized to Sam and Nick. "I don't know how it happened, but it was definitely arson. It was definitely Marshall."

Nick shook his head slowly. "What the hell did I do to piss this guy off so much?"

"You're just you," Grissom answered. "He wants to be you. That's what you did."

"Why can't he just leave me alone? Or stop being a jackass and trying to kill an innocent person? I get why he hates me, but he doesn't have to drag Sam into this."

Grissom nodded in agreement. "I know, but he is."

Brass sighed heavily. "Alright guys, let's get everyone back to the lab where it's safer. These two need some rest, and we have to catch this son of a bitch."


	7. Push

After a brief argument over who was going to get to sleep on the couch, Sam finally gave in and laid down, still wearing Nick's clothes. The Texan found a blanket in one of the storage closets and threw it over Sam, who had fallen asleep while he had been out searching for the blanket. Nick sank down into one of the chairs at the table and leaned back as Maverick curled up as his feet, falling asleep on the floor. Nick knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, as was the case more often than not for him. He just sat at the table, running his hand through his hair, and trying to come up with a solution for the problem at hand. One that Brass and Grissom would actually let him do. 

Nothing was coming to mind. None of it would be allowed by the police captain or supervisor, so Nick just gave up trying for the time being. He was exhausted and wanted to sleep, but knew he wasn't going to be able to. He was starting to wish he had accepted those sleeping pills that the therapist Ecklie made him go see had offerd him. That would have been the only good thing that could come out of wasting his time talking to a stranger about stuff that bothered him. He hated doing it, but Ecklie insisted and Nick didn't feel like making the lab director hate him even more than he already did.

Nick sighed at the thought of how much therapy Ecklie would make him have after this whole ordeal. Nick thought it was cruel that he ultimately was punished for bad things that happened to him, but for now he pushed that to the back of his mind and tried to just relax. He didn't want to think about the psychopath that wanted to take his life in every way possible. He didn't want to think about the innocent woman laying on the couch in front of him, who got herself mixed up in something that had nothing to do with her. He didn't want to think about what Marshall was planning to do to not only himself, but his friends as well. He didn't want to think about any of that, so he didn't think about anything.

Over the years, Nick had gotten pretty goot at being able to not think about anything. He just closed his eyes and took a couple deep breaths and was able to relax and be calm without even having to fall asleep or anything. He always felt much better when he wasn't thinking about anything. But unfortunately, this time he wasn't able to do that for long. Thoughts of Marshall tormenting his friends and Sam ended up plaguing his mind, causing him to get up and make himself a cup of coffee to try and distract himself. He drank the entire cup in just a few gulps and was pouring himself another one when Warrick entered the break room.

"Hey man," he greeted Nick quietly so he wouldn't wake Sam up. He walked over to his friend and took the coffee mug out of Nick's shaking hands. "The last thing you need right now is caffeine."

Nick sighed because he knew Warrick was right. "I know, I just can't help it. I can't stop thinking about Marshall trying to kill everyone I've ever met or something. I don't know what to do."

"There's nothing you can do," Warrick replied as they two friends went over to the table and sat down. "Leave it to Brass and Grissom and Grissom's shrink friend. They'll figure something out. We just need you to stay outta trouble. We're still processing evidence. We can break this any second. Every cop in Vegas is looking for Marshall. We're gonna get him Nicky."

"It's impossible for me to just sit here and not do anything. You of all people should know that."

Warrick nodded slightly. "That's true. But this guy has got some serious problems. We're not going to risk you getting hurt again."

Nick sighed again as he ran his hands over his face. "I don't get why he didn't just kill me when he had the chance. I didn't put up a fight against him cuz I didn't want him to hurt Sam too. He could have killed me. Why didn't he?"

"I don't care why. I'm just glad he didn't," Warrick answered.

"I wish he could just leave her out of this too," Nick said, looking over at Sam, still asleep on the couch. "She didn't even know me until he hit on her at the bar and stole her car. It's his fault, not hers." Warrick just shook his head and smiled slightly at his friend. "What?" Nick asked.

Warrick didn't have time to answer. Grissom came running into the room with Brass, both men slightly out of breath. They stopped in front of Warrick and Nick, who exchanged puzzled glances with each other. Brass and Grissom took a second to catch their breath before speaking at the same time.

"He has your credit cards," they said in unison.

Grissom let Brass continue. "He must have gotten them when he set your house on fire. He spent money at a gas station, but that was it. We have flags up for it now and his picture everywhere. He used it a couple hours ago, before we spread word far enough."

"Where did he use it?" Nick asked.

"Just outside of Henderson, where his last known address was," Grissom answered. "We got surveillance from the gas station. He didn't even try to hide hid face."

"I think you really need to see this," Brass added, motioning to Archie's A/V lab down the hall.

Warrick, Nick, and the now awake Sam went with Brass and Grissom down the hall into Archie's lab. They all sat around the computer monitor in front of the larger pull down screen on the far wall. Archie had the tape ready and had been waiting for them to arrive.

"You ready for this?" Archie asked Nick, who nodded slowly.

Archie played the tape from the beginning. They saw Sam's car pull up to a pump and watched as a man got out. The side of his face was visible by the camera, and if they didn't know any better, everyone in the room would have assumed it was Nick. After filling the tank, Marshall close the gas cap and turned directly to the camera, looking right up at it. Using his right thumb, he traced a line across his neck from left to right - the universal sign for dead. He smiled wickedly before climbing back into the car and driving away.

"Uniforms found the car five miles outside of Henderson about a half hour ago," Brass reported.

Sam shook her head slowly. "Why would he fill up the tank, then ditch the car?"

"He wanted us to see him," Nick responded. "He wanted me to see that he looks exactly like me now. He's trying to scare me."

"Is it working?" Grissom asked hesistantly.

Nick shook his head. "No, he's just pissing me off. He's trying to taunt me, and he's gonna end up slipping up. He will sooner or later."

Brass sighed. "Let's hope for the sooner rather than the later."

* * *

Asking him about it now would get you nowhere. Nick didn't know how he had gotten there, what had happened before or even what happened after. All he knew was what had happened when it was just him and Marshall on the roof of the crime lab. Nick vaguely remember going up there to have a cigarette or something, but other than that, nothing comes to mind.

Nick stood on the edge of the roof, cars and people passing by below, ignorant to what was going on above them. Nick didn't look down, and was somewhat surprised at how easy it was not to do so. He guessed it might have something to do with his eyes being trained on the barell of the gun in front of him, pointing straight at the center of his chest.

Dan Marshall stood no more than five feet away, his arm raised and wielding the gun. Nick tried not to think of what the 9mm Beretta was going to do to his heart if Marshall pulled the trigger. Being a CSI made it hard not to observe these kind of things, and right now Nick was hating that fact. He was also hating the fact that Marshall hadn't said one word since he had appeared on the roof and pulled the gun, forcing Nick to walk backwards until he was at the edge of the roof.

"Now here's your choice," Marshall finally said. "You can jump off the building, or you can shoot yourself. Take your pick."

Nick shook his head. "Excuse me?"

"Which way would you like to kill yourself?" Marshall asked.

"Neither," Nick answered. "I'd like to live, if it's all the same to you."

"It's not," Marshall said. "This is how it's going to go down. You're going to kill yourself, except everyone else is going to think it was me. They'll think Dan Marshall committed suicide, not Nick Stokes. Then I'll just slip in and take over your life for you."

Marshall didn't wait for Nick to respond. He took a few steps forward until the barell of the gun was against Nick's chest. He pushed hard enough to pose a threat, but not nearly hard enough to send Nick over the edge. Before Marshall could say or do anything else, Nick quickly reached up and punched him in the face, sending him tumbling backwards. Nick ran towards him, which ended up being a mistake.

Marshall pulled a syringe out of his jacket pocket and in one swift motion stabbed Nick in the arm with it, injecting the liquid inside into Nick's bloodstream. The Texan immediatly felt his knees buckle and fell to the ground, his entire body going numb and weak. His fingers felt tingly and his vision began to blur. He felt like he was going to pass out, but he didn't.

Marshall kneeled on the ground next to him, pressing the gun into his throat with enough force to make it hard for Nick to breathe. He wiped the blood from his bleeding lip and stared down at Nick, who was unable to fight back.

"You shouldn't have done that," Marshall said. "Just make up your mind. Give in Nick. Make it easier for everyone, especially yourself. There's no need to make this harder for everyone."

Nick tried to move away from the gun, but he couldn't. His heart was racing against his ribcage. His arm was throbbing from whatever Marshall had injected him with and his lungs were screaming for arm. He was beginning to feel light headed and dizzy and knew that he would probably pass out soon from lack of oxygen.

"Take the easy way out," Marshall said. "They'll never know what really happened. I'll take your place and be better for them than you ever could. Sam won't even know the difference. She'll love me just like she loved you."

Nick tried to move again, but it only made his headache and arm hurt worse. He tried to yell, but had no air in his lungs to do so. He squeezed his eyes shut and ignored how appealing and easy what Marshall was saying actually was. Nick knew it was the easy way out, of everything. Everything would just go away. Forever.

But he couldn't leave his friends. Not like that. And for some reason, his heart wouldn't let him leave Sam either.

"You're going to lose everything one way or another Nick. How's it gonna be?"

Nick's story ends there. That's all he can remember. From that point on until he woke up in the hospital is too hazy for him to make anything of it. But Nick doesn't care.

He made his choice. He made the choice to fight Marshall, even if it has to be on his own. He's not going to give up, even if he ends up losing everything. He has everything to gain, and nothing will make him abandon the people that have stood by him through everything he's been through.

Losing everything only means having that much more to fight for.


	8. Mad Season

Nick thought that everyone around him was over reacting. Maybe it was because some of the drug that Marshall had injected him with was still in his system, but none of this seemed to be a big deal to him. He had only passed out for a few minutes and then felt fine again. As a precaution, he was taken to the hospital, where he currently was. He was still shaky and light headed. The doctors kept saying how he got here just in time and if just a few more milliliters of the liquid had been given to him, he would be in the morgue instead of the hospital. None of this really sank in to Nick, and that just wasn't sitting too well with Warrick. 

"It doesn't bother you at all that this guy has put you in the hospital twice because he's trying to take your life? What the hell were you doing up there anyway?" Warrick said, trying to keep his voice calm but losing the battle.

"I needed fresh air," Nick lied.

Warrick scoffed. "So you went to the roof? That's bullshit Nick. Is sneaking off to have a cigarette worth your life? Is it worth it at all?" He was yelling now, but didn't care.

Nick shook his head slowly. "No," he said quietly.

Unable to take the defeated look in Nick's eyes, Warrick left the hospital room. He fled down the hall, heading for the bathroom. Tears were clouding his vision and he could feel the lump in his throat getting bigger, making it harder for him to breathe. His knees felt like they were about to give out and his heart was racing in his ears, all of this because of his stress and worry over his best friend. He didn't even see Catherine until he ran right into her, almost making her drop her coffee.

"Slow down Warrick," Catherine said. Then she saw the look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Nick," Warrick choked out. He sank into a chair against the wall and buried his face in his hands as Catherine sat next to him. "I just yelled at him. I didn't mean to, but I couldn't help it. He thinks this is no big deal. He doesn't understand that this guy wants him dead. This guy's trying to kill my best friend."

"He's not going to," Catherine said, rubbing Warrick's back soothingly. "Nick's gonna be okay. We're gonna catch this guy."

"I can't lose him," Warrick said softly. "I don't care how selfish that sounds. I don't care. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to him. I can't take it. It drives me insane."

"Hey," Catherine said, making Warrick look up at her. "He's gonna be okay. He has all of us behind him, but most importantly he has you. I know that this sucks and it's awful to have to deal with, but if anyone can do it, it's you two. He needs you as much as you need him." She smiled at Warrick warmly. "Everything's gonna be okay."

* * *

"He has a point ya know," Grissom said after the door had closed behind Warrick.

Nick sighed. "I know. I didn't think Marshall was up there. I don't have a death wish."

Greg, Brass and Sam all looked at the floor or wall, anywhere but at Nick. But Grissom didn't look away from Nick's eyes. "I understand that, but given your history for these kinda things, I'm sure you understand why Warrick's upset."

"I never said I didn't," Nick replied. "I just think that if everyone makes such a big deal about this that it'll be harder to handle. If we make it seem like no one's too concerned, that'll piss Marshall off and he'll be more apt to mess up or something. No one's perfect."

"This guy's close," Brass chimed in. "We found recipts in the car he ditched. He left them so we'd know exactly what he bought and so we'd have to think about why."

"What did he buy?" Nick asked.

"Some food and gas, clothes, a couple movies..." Brass tailed off.

"What else?" Nick pushed, picking up on Brass' hesistation.

Brass looked over at Grissom, who nodded slightly. "And he uh...he bought natural male enhancement pills."

Nick frowned. "What? I thought...didn't you sweep my house and find nothing? No cameras or anything?" Brass nodded solemnly. "Then how the hell did he see me naked?"

Greg stole a look at Nick, and immediatly wished he hadn't. The look on his friend's face wasn't one Greg wanted to remember. Sam continued to stare at the floor as if something of great importance was on it. And to make it worse, Warrick and Catherine had come back in to the room at the moment to learn what everyone else just had as well. The information didn't sit too well with anyone, but no one wanted to know the answer to Nick's question.

Grissom offered an explanation anyway. "Maybe he had cameras in the house, then removed them before we checked. This guy seems to be capable of anything. It's impossible to know for sure how and why he did anything."

"He wanted me to kill myself," Nick said out of the blue a few minutes later, grabbing everyone's attention. "After he injected me with whatever it was, he told me to do it, to make it easier on everyone."

Nick heard Marshall's words echoing in his head over and over. _"You're going to lose everything."_

"What did you say to him?" Grissom asked.

"Nothing," Nick answered honestly. "I didn't do anything but try to get him off me. Then I passed out, and he was gone."

"Not to be a Debbie Downer or anything, but why didn't he just kill you?" Brass asked the question that was on everyone's mind, but no one wanted to say it.

"He wanted me to do it so it'd look like a suicide, but instead of me dying it'd be Dan Marshall. He wanted to take over, for good. He wants everything I have," Nick said, looking from Warrick over to Sam. "What should I do?" He asked, looking at Grissom.

"I can't answer that for you," Grissom said. "No one can. This has everything to do with you, and only you. Marshall can look like you, talk like you, and even act like you. But he'll never be able to think like you. Only you can do that, so use it to your advantage."

"I like it better when you just tell me what to do," Nick said with sigh.

"Yes, but I have confidence that you can figure this out on your own. No one else has the same thought process, or train of thought for that matter as you do. In this case, it's a good thing."

"So I have to outsmart this guy?"

Grissom smiled. "Nicky my boy, no one's better at being you than you."

* * *

When they saw the police officers surrounding Judy's desk as soon as they enetered the lab, everyone knew something had gone wrong. Brass hadn't heard a thing about it, which didn't please the captain. They found detevtive Vartann, who was talking to Ecklie and the Sherriff. He turned his attention to Brass and the CSIs, along with Sam, when they walked up to him. 

"What's going on Chris?" Brass asked.

"Marshall left a letter behind for Nick. We printed it and checked surveillance tapes, but didn't get anything off of them that's of any help. There were no prints on the paper. He didn't walk by Judy; he used the back door, which we just sealed off. The only way to get in now is the front door."

Brass nodded slowly. "Where's this note?"

"Over there," Vartann answered, pointing into the layout room.

Brass motioned for Grissom and Nick to follow him. The three men went into the layout room and stood next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, with Nick in the middle, the letter right in front of him.

_Dear Nick,_

_You really should have taken my offer when it was given to you. You're going to regret it. I can't believe how selfish you are; thinking only about yourself and not caring how this is going to affect your friends. There is no longer any difference between you and I except that I'm stronger and I'm smarter and I will not lose. You will lose everyone you love, and no one will ever know the difference. Even your best friend and girlfriend will like me as you better than you as you. Be prepared for the most painful experience of your life. Your worst, and your last._

"This guy has some serious problems," Nick said after reading over the note twice. "Does he honestly think he's scaring me?"

"He isn't?" Brass asked. "Because I'm sure as hell worried."

"Worried and scared are two different things," Nick said as he looked up from the piece of paper on the table in front of him. "I'm worried that he's gonna try to hurt you guys or something, but I'm not afraid of him. I'm afraid of small glass boxes, glowsticks, and ants. But not Dan Marshall."

"You're right," Brass said to Grissom. "This kid has his own messed up thought process that no one else can understand. Hopefully it'll come in handy."

Nick laughed. "Yeah, hopefully it will. It hasn't gotten me very far yet. Maybe I'll get lucky this time."

"Luck's got nothing to do with it," Grissom said to his CSI. "You very rarely get lucky. There's always some sort of skill involved. You're too smart to get lucky."

Nick glanced over his shoulder at Warrick, Greg, Catherine, and Sam in the hallway with the cops and Ecklie. They all had nervous expressions on their worried faces as they looked through the glass back at Nick.

Nick turned back to Brass and Grissom. "Do you guys have any suggestions for me?"

"Yeah," Brass said. "Stop taking this guy lightly. Figure out a way to mess with him and make him screw up. Don't fuck around with this, it's your life Nicky."

Neither Nick nor Grissom were surprised when Brass cursed to that extent. The captain rarely did, really only when he was showing as much emotion as he was now. Grissom was feeling the same, but he showed it differently.

"He's right," the supervisor said. He put his hand on Nick's shoulder and gripped it tightly. "Don't do anything stupid. If given the chance, we know that you can figure whatever it is you need to figure out. But until then, stay outta trouble. We want you around for a little while longer, okay?"

Nick nodded. "I'll be careful, I promise. But I'm not gonna let this guy hurt any of you. He wants to hurt me, and he might try to do it through my friends. If it comes down to him hurting either me or one of you, I don't need to tell you what my answer's gonna be." Nick looked back down at the piece of paper on the lit up table. "He's not gonna win."

* * *

Sorry it's been taking so long to update. I'll try to get chapters up faster. I promise more action and angst is to come in future chapters. Thanks for reading and reviewing, I hope you're enjoying it.


	9. Spin

Sam couldn't take her eyes off of Nick, contrary to what had happened at the hospital when she couldn't look at him at all. They were once again in the break room, which was being closely watched by everyone around. Warrick, Grissom or Brass would pass by about every other minute and steal a glance in when they thought Nick and Sam weren't looking. Sometimes they didn't even care if they noticed, they just wanted to make sure everything was okay. Nick was slumped in a chair at the table and Sam was sitting on the couch, unsure of what to do. She could see even from where she was sitting that Nick's hands were shaking and his skin look pale, even in the dim lighting. 

"I'm really sorry you got dragged into all of this," Nick said suddenly, breaking the silence. "It's not fair to you, especially since you never even had anything to do with me until now."

Sam shook her head. "It's not your fault either. You don't ask for these psycho's to torment and stalk you. Besides, if I'm gonna get dragged into something like this, I'm glad it's with you and not some jackass who wouldn't care at all about what happens to me or his friends as much as you care."

"Yeah, caring so much gets me in trouble sometimes," he said with a small smile. "I just feel bad that you're the one getting stuck in the middle of this. But of course with my luck, a nice, normal girl gets thrown into it all. I have the worst luck ever. Well, sort of. I mean, at least I got to meet you. That's good. But in the worst meeting way possible."

Sam blushed and looked down at the floor, a smile tugging at her lips. "Sorry, I tend to talk too much when I'm tired and nervous. I need to sleep for a few days, get myself back to normal," Nick said.

"I bet you're the same now as you are when you're acting 'normal'. Guys like you don't have many different personalities. You're just a nice, sweet guy. That's about it."

"I guess that's better than being a jackass, or a psychopathic maniac who tries to literally take over people's lives," Nick said with a sigh. "These things only happen to me, I'm convinced."

"Bad things happen to nice people, nice guys finish last...those sayings aren't around for nothing ya know. They hold truth, especially in your case."

Nick smiled. "Lucky me."

* * *

"Are you sure you never met this guy before? You're positive that there's no way he could have an old grudge against you?" Warrick asked as they all sat in the break room, talking over Nick's situation.

"Do you honestly think I would forget meeting a guy that looks exactly like me? I think I would have remembered something like that," Nick said.

Warrick sighed. "That's true. But maybe you were drunk or something and did something stupid. I mean, you did live in a frat house Nicky."

Nick nodded. "Yeah, that's true too. But why would he wait all this time to do something about it? He's not from around here. He lives in Chicago. He must have come out here for some reason and seen me."

"Then decided to commit murder and blame it on you?" Greg said skeptically.

Nick's eyes lit up. "No...he just got lucky. That could be why he came out here. He found me and figured he could put it all on me. But then why would he want to be me?"

"He stalked you," Grissom said. "That could have been his original intention, to blame it on you. But then after watching you, he realized that he wants to be you and just completely take over. He doesn't have a stable mind. What he wants can change daily, but now he seems pretty set on succeeding in being you."

"Did he have any connection with the victim he killed?" Nick asked.

Brass had almost forgotten Dan Marshall had committed murder. "Nothing stood out. Marshall's from Chicago, and the vic, Mike Laring, grew up in LA. The only connection we ever made was Marshall called Laring three days before the murder. Call lasted four minutes, and I bet they had been yelling about something."

Nick sighed. "I just don't get how he got into my house without me knowing and was able to stalk me without anyone ever noticing him. How do they keep doing this to me?"

"When you want something as bad as they do, you find a way," Grissom said. "What we need to do is find a way to catch this guy before anything else happens. How we're gonna do that is still up in the air."

"Maybe I could help, by being bait or something," Sam offered.

"No," Nick said quickly. "If they won't let me do it, you're not doing it either. You shouldn't even have anything to do with this, it's not fair to risk you getting hurt or even killed."

"Then what do you propose we do?" Sam asked.

Nick looked down at the floor. "I don't know. He seems to only appear when he wants to. This guy is like Houdini."

Before anyone else could add in their opinions, the smoke detectors in the lab began to go off. Everyone in the break room looked out into the hallways, where thick grey smoke had started to envelop the air. It was spreading incredibly quickly and wasn't long before it flowed into the break room, depriving everyone of being able to see and breathe.

The alarms were blaring throughout the lab and people were yelling out to each other, but nothing was clear to anyone. Most people dropped to the floor to try to avoid the smoke, but it was everywhere now. There was no escaping it. It seeped under doors and through the cracks. The entire lab was coughing and choking, trying to catch their breath to soothe their burning lungs.

Judy and Hodges had managed to make it to the front doors and opened them wide. The cold night air quickly sucked the hot smoke and steam away from the way, slowly but surely clearing up the lab. It took quite some time, and after about ten more minutes in the cloudy smoke, things began to clear enough for people to see and breathe normally.

They didn't need to wait until the break room was completely smoke free before everyone noticed that both Nick and Sam were gone. Not only from the room, but the lab itself.

* * *

Nick's eyes and throat were still scratchy and every breath made his ribs feel like they were snapping. His head was spinning and he couldn't remember what happened. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around the dimly lit room he was in. The walls were bare concrete. One light in the center of the large room burned brightly, but only managed to light about half of the gloomy room. Once he was completely aware of his surroundings - the chair he was sitting in unbound and the metal garage-style sliding door behind him - Nick finally saw what made his heart skip several beats and knocked the air from his lungs.

Sam was standing not even ten feet away from him. She was awake and looking at him with fear in her eyes. Surrounding her was a clear box with a hose running out from the bottom of it. Nick's heart sunk at the sight of what he thought was plexiglass, but then realized it was actual glass, at least three inches think.

"Nice to see you're awake," Dan Marshall's voice said from somewhere behind Nick in the dark, but his eyes were glued to Sam's. "You have about ten minutes before that glass case will fill up with water, and Sam'll drown. Right in front of your eyes. Unless you can get her out, but I doubt it."

As soon as Marshall's voice faded, water poured from the end of the hose that was stuck in the glass case surrounding Sam. She didn't move at all. All she could do was stare at Nick pleadingly and pray that he would be able to get her out before it was too late.

Nick was thinking the same thing.

* * *

Sorry for the long wait and short chapter, basketball started up this week. Hope you're enjoying, thanks for the reviews. 


	10. Falling Down

Nick immediatly stood up from the chair and went over to the glass tank as soon as he saw water start pouring in from the hose. There was no door or latch or anything for him to pull open. He did everything he could to ignore Sam's eyes so that he couldn't see how scared she was. His own heart was racing and he could hear it beating in his ears. He knew what it was like to be trapped in a glass box with there being absolutely nothing you can do. But this time, he could do something to help someone else. He just needed to figure it out, and fast. 

Nick went back over to the chair he had been sitting in and tried to pick it up, but it was bolted to the ground. He pulled on it as hard as he could, but it didn't budge at all. After he gave up on that, he went back over to the tank and yanked on the hose leading into the glass wall. He could see out of the corner of his eye that the water was already rising just below Sam's knees. He had to force himself to keep from doing the math on how much time he had left. He wouldn't be able to think clearly if he didn't concentrate everything he had on just getting her out.

The hose wasn't moving at all from the hole it was welded into, make Nick's efforts worthless. He tried to bend the actual hose itself to cut off the water supply and buy himself more time, but that didn't work either. The hose lead up into the ceiling, where it disappeared. He pulled on it, using all his weight on his end, but that didn't do anything either. The hose wouldn't come out of either end and there was nothing around to break the glass with. So Nick went back over and stood in front of Sam. She was starting to freak out, and he couldn't blame her there. The only thing he could think to do was what Grissom had done to him when he had been buried alive. Knowing it had worked for him made him try it for Sam.

"Sam," Nick said loud enough for her to hear him from the other side of the glass. "Put your hands on mine," he instructed as he held his hands against the cold glass. Sam did as he said, pressing her shaking hands on the other side of his. "Don't look down at the water. Close your eyes and relax. I'm gonna get you out, okay? Move as far back as you can, turn around and cover your head. Don't open your eyes or turn around no matter what, okay?"

Sam nodded weakly. Nick pulled his hands off the glass and she turned around, leaning against the back wall with her back facing Nick. He tried once to tip the tank or make it sway even just a little, but he couldn't. So he did the only thing that was left for him to do. He took a deep breath and stepped back slightly before using his right hand to punch the glass as hard as he could, putting all the weight he could behind it. His fist collided with the glass and only cracked it slightly. Pain shot up from his hand all the way through his arm, but he ignored it. He hit the glass in the same spot again and again, paying no mind to the glass sticking into his knuckles and fingers.

The water was starting to get up around Sam's shoulders, and Nick couldn't form a fist with his hand anymore. The pain was making it hard for him so see and think straight, but he knew what to do next. He used his shoulder and elbow to bang against the already broken glass more. He felt water hit his skin in short spurts, which eventually became heavier flows that soaked his skin and clothes. The strength it took to break the thick glass was draining out of Nick, but luckily it only took a few more thrusts before the glass cracked all the way up and finally shattered against the Texan, sending water washing over him as it spilled from the tank.

The sudden rush of the water added to Nick's sudden exhaustion caused him to fall to his left, continually until he landed on the concrete floor below him. He was bleeding heavily from his right hand, elbow and shoulder. Shards of glass had lodged themselves in his neck and face with thin lines of blood trickling down from them. Searing pain coursed throughout the entire right side of his body and his vision was starting to get a little shaky.

Sam turned around as soon as she felt the water moving away from her after when she heard the glass break. He saw Nick lying on the floor, surrounded by a pool of light red water mixing with his blood. His eyes were closed and his hand was shaking violently, but at least he was breathing. She slipped past the broken glass on the outskirts of the tank wall and kneeled down next to Nick, ignorant of the blood staining her already wet clothes.

"Nick," she said softly as she covered his injured hand with both of hers. "Wake up. Come on, open your eyes. Please wake up."

Nick clenched his jaw against the pain and slowly sat up, but didn't open his eyes. Not yet. He waited until the pain in his hand and arm became a dull throb. Only then did he slowly open his eyes and stare down at his mangled hand, but he quickly forgot about that and turned his attention towards Sam.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. You're the one who broke through a glass wall with your bare hands. Why did you do that?"

Nick shrugged. "I didn't have any other choice. I had to do something," he said as he was still struggling to catch his breath. He didn't wait until he did before he continued. "We have to find a way to get outta here before Marshall comes in or something."

"I've been here the entire time," Marshall's voice said from in the darkness off to the right. He appeared in the light within seconds. "That was impressive, I didn't think you'd be able to do that. I guess you really do love her."

Nick fought back the urge to yell at Marshall. "Do you not understand that we had nothing to do with each other before you? She doesn't even know me."

"But I know you," Marshall said as he stepped closer to where Nick and Sam were on the floor. "You're a nice guy and everything, but you wouldn't have done everything you have if you didn't feel _something_ for her. Come on Nick, I'm smarter than that. But go ahead. If you can honestly tell me that you don't, then go ahead and say it."

Nick's eyes flickered from Marshall's to Sam's for an instant, then went down to the floor where the pool of water mixed with his own blood was surrounding him. The pain from the glass wasn't even affecting him. He was much more worried about Marshall using what he knew against him, which was exactly Marshall's plan.

"Will you just leave him alone?" Sam pleaded as she looked down at the still bleading Nick.

"Ahh, and you do feel something for him as well. And not just because he's saved your life a couple times. I understand. He's a great guy. But don't you worry, I'll be even better in every way. I can even prove it to you."

Sam shook her head slowly. "What are you talking about? You're crazy."

"Am I?" Marshall asked. With every word, he was sounding more and more like Nick. "I look like him, act like him, and sound like him. Who's to say I can't do everything like him? Especially with those pills I got..."

Nick visibly flinched at that thought. He felt sick to his stomach and wanted nothing more than to beat the hell out of Marshall. The only problem with that was that his hand was definitely broken and he was exhausted and in pain. As he thought about that, Nick realized that that was exactly what Marshall had been counting on. He knew Nick would do whatever it took to save Sam, which ended up giving Marshall a huge advantage over the Texan.

"So what's your choice Nick?" Marshall asked.

Nick sighed in annoyance. "What're my options?"

"You can just give up now. You're already slowly bleeding to death, you're smart enough to know that those cuts are pretty serious. You won't even be able to put up a fight. So just give in. Or, if you want to be stubborn, you can put up a fight, make this more complicated than it has to be, and waste everyone's time," Marshall said.

Nick pretended to be thinking about it for a second before he responded. "I think I'll go with my second choice. I'm not really the kind of person who would just give in to a person like you. I'd rather be a pain in the ass."

Before Marshall could say anything, Sam spoke. "I thought you were gonna prove something to me," she said quickly. "Isn't that what you said? Something about you being better than Nick in every way, which I highly doubt."

Marshall smiled slightly. "Okay. Stand up Nick."

Nick scoffed. "Fuck you."

Marshall pulled a gun out of the back of his jeans and pointed it at Nick. "Stand up," he said again.

"Fuck you," Nick repeated. But when Marshall pointed the gun at Sam, Nick moved to stand up immediatly. "Okay, okay," he said as he slowly stood, clearly in pain. He was shaking slightly from all the blood he lost already.

"Kiss him," Marshall said, looking at Sam, still holding the gun on her.

"What?" she asked in surprise.

Marshall rolled his eyes dramatically. "Kiss him. I'm going to prove to you that I am better than him in every way. Come on, it's not like you don't want to. Are you afraid I'm right?"

Nick's vision wasn't exactly in focus and his head was spinning pretty fast, but he heard and understood everything Marshall had said. He felt like he was going to pass out, but tried his best to ignore it.

"Why do you have to be better than me in that way? Why do you care so damn much? Leave her out of this," he said, his voice steadier than it should have been.

Marshall quickly strode over to Nick and hit him on the back of his neck with the butt end of the gun. Nick faltered a little bit, but didn't fall over or lose his balance. Marshall hit him again, and there was nothing Nick could do to fight back. He had no eneergy in him whatsoever and all he wanted to do was lay down and sleep for a very long time, but he knew that wasn't about to happy any time in the near future.

"Will you just shut up for five minutes? Please. You're so damn annoying Nick." Marshall turned to Sam. "See? You don't want to be with him. He's a jackass and doesn't care about you at all. All he wants from you is sex. It's so obvious."

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Were you thrown down a mountain as a child or something? You're so dilliusional it's not even funny, it's sad. Why don't you just give up, because there's no way in hell I'm letting a psychopath like you take over my life."

Without a word, Marshall pressed the gun against the side of Nick's head forcefully. That pain was nothing compared to the pain the rest of his body was in. Nick wouldn't have felt it if it weren't for the cold metal of the barrel against his hot skin. It actually felt good and made Nick wish someone would pour a bunch of ice water over him so that maybe his heart would stop racing in his chest and made his headache go away.

"Humor me," Marshall said, ignoring Nick's previous statement. "Prove me wrong. Or try to. What's the harm in it? There's more harm in not doing it. I'll kill him, I swear."

Nick looked at Sam and saw silent tears streaming down her pale face. He shook his head slowly, but he ignored him. She quickly brushed the tears away, not wanting him to see her crying. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly in an effort to calm herself down. She blamed herself for everything that had happened to Nick and didn't want anything else to happen to him. But she couldn't move from where her feet seemed to be cemented to the floor. She couldn't move, no matter how much she wanted to.

Nick saw the look in her eyes and knew what she was thinking. He knew that this had nothing to do with her and was out of both of their control. It was right now, at least. But maybe he could change that. He remembered what Grissom had said about Marshall not being able to think like him. Nick wasn't sure what he was going to do in the long run, but for right now, he would just improvise and see where he got from there. He didn't really have too many other options.

Sam's eyes were still locked with his when he stepped forward suddenly, the gun sliding away from his head. Marshall was too surprised at the sudden movement to react, but he didn't need to. In one swift motion, Nick stepped away from Marshall and over to Sam, who didn't move at all. She stood still as Nick pressed his lips to hers, kissing her softly. Her eyes fluttered closed and tears continued down her cheeks, but she didn't care. Nick's entire body had started to shake slightly, but he didn't care.

But Marshall did care because he could see that there was more to it than a kiss at gun point. He felt rage boiling up as he watched Nick, who he wanted to be, kissing Sam, who he wanted to be with. Out of pure anger, he lashed out with the gun as hard as he could until it connected with the back of Nick's head. It made a cracking sound and successfully broke up the kiss, but didn't make Nick move away. Marshall punched him in the back and his right side, where the glass and cuts were the worst. The pain made Nick yell out and his knees buckle, resulting in him falling to the floor on his knees.

Marshall kicked Nick as he walked up to Sam, sending the Texan falling over onto his left side in pain. Marshall forcefully grabbed Sam and brought her lips crashing to his, but she pulled away almost instantly. He tried again, but didn't get too far before Nick was back on his feet and punched Marshall in the face. The punch took all of Nick's remaining energy. Marshall stumbled backwards and Sam had to grab Nick to keep him from falling over again. She held on to his left arm, for herself and for him.

Marshall regained his composure and started walking towards Sam, but Nick pulled her behind him and pushed her backwards. They walked backwards, Sam behind Nick, until Sam's back hit the concrete wall and there was nowhere left for them to go. Sam gripped Nick's hand as hard as she could, peering at the advancing Marshall over Nick's shoulder.

"Get out of the way," Marshall said to Nick, holding his gun up and trying to point it at Sam.

"No," Nick said defiantly.

Marshall was clearly trying not to flip out. "I'm going to hurt you in the worst way possible. I'm gonna hurt something you love. Get out of the way."

Nick laughed slightly. "You're gonna have to do more than that to convince me. I'm not giving up, and you're not gonna win. It's that simple."

* * *

I apologize for the long time it took to get this up. My computer wasn't working well, and I've been busy with school and basketball.

More angst is to come in the next chapters. Thanks for the reviews.


	11. My Sacrifice

"Ready to give up yet?" 

For some reason, as distorted and blurry as his vision was, Nick's hearing was perfectly fine. He figured that it would have been affected by his exhaustion and the pain he was in right now, but it wasn't. Maybe that was a good thing, but he doubted it. He couldn't see how being able to hear Marshall ask him stupid questions and hear Sam's muffled sobs from the corner could be a good thing.

Nick shook his head. "I hate to disappoint you, but you're not even close."

Marshall punched Nick in his bare ribs again, sending the shards of glass deeper into his tanned skin and eliciting more blood from the Texan's body to flow out of his wounds and down his chest and stomach. Nick's shirt was torn and hanging loosely off his hunched shoulders. His hands were chained above his head to the the wall behind him. The glass in his back was causing him a lot of pain due to the skin being stretched because of his arms extended over his head. His head was hurting him as much as the rest of his body and all he really wanted to do was sleep for as long as possible. But that wasn't about to happen.

"What if I slit her throat?" Marshall asked as he walked away from Nick, but still faced him, towards the corner Sam was in. There wasn't much light where she was, but she was in a perfect position to watch Nick being tortured. Her hands were handcuffed behind her back and a thick piece of duct tape covered her mouth. She could have gotten up and moved if she had wanted to, but she doubted her legs would hold her.

"You're not gonna touch her," Nick said simply.

"Oh?" Marshall said, seemingly amused. He bent down in front of Sam. "What makes you think that?"

"Because you think you care about her as much as I do. Truth is no one could care half as much as I do and all you care about it yourself, but that just goes back to your dillusional perception of things, so it's understandable how fucked up this is."

Marshall stood up and walked back over to Nick. "You think you're so smart, don't you? You think you're so great and that there's nothing wrong with you. You're perfect in your own eyes."

Nick smiled sarcasitcally and shook his head. "That couldn't be farther from the truth. There's so many things wrong with me that I've lost track. I'm afraid of glow sticks. Just thinking about bubble gum or strawberry ice cream makes me sick to my stomach. I end up smoking more every time I actually try to quit, and I don't think that I've slept for more than two hours straight without having a nightmare in three years. I know I'm not perfect, but at least I don't pretend to be. I don't get why you want to be me so much."

"Because you're the guy I've always wanted to be!" Marshall yelled. "I bet you were the cool guy in high school that everyone was friends with, the cool jock that every girl wanted to sleep with. You were obviously smart if you're a CSI now and I bet you were the perfect kid who never did a damn thing wrong. I was the opposite of that. It's my turn now, and not just because we look the same. You don't deserve to be you anymore. You don't deserve your life, or her," Marshall said, motioning to Sam.

Out of nowhere, Marshall drew his gun and pointed it straight between Nick's dark brown eyes. Behind Marshall, Nick saw Sam freeze and hold her breath as she turned pale. Marshall's hand was shaking slightly despite his best efforts to keep it from doing so. He gritted his teeth and stared at Nick, who smiled slightly, more to himself than to Marshall.

"If you're trying to intimidate me, it's going to take more than a gun in my face. That doesn't even make me concerned anymore. There's nothing you can do to make scare me or make me give up, so maybe you should be the one to give in."

Marshall cocked his head to the side slightly. "We'll see about that."

* * *

To say that Warrick was thoroughly confused would be the understatement of the century. He had absolutely no idea how he had gotten to where ever the hell he was right now. He was sitting in a chair in what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse by the looks of it. But that didn't really matter. What mattered and confused him the most was that there were three people in front of him, none of whom were speaking or moving much at all. Sam was in the corner, her eyes closed and her chest rising and falling slowly. Duct tape covered her mouth and her hands were behind her back, but that's not what had Warrick's attention. 

There were two Nicks to the left of Sam. One was on the floor, gasping for breath with cuts and bruises covering his battered body. His chest was heaving and blood spilled from the wounds all over his body. His shirt was missing, giving Warrick a clear view of all the damage that had been done to his body. That Nick's eyes were closed and he was shaking slightly as he lay on the concrete floor warmed by his own blood.

The other Nick was standing in between the wounded Nick and Sam. He also had his fair share of cuts and bruises, but not to the extent of the other one. He was standing and breathing close to normal with minimal damage done to him. His shirt was ripped almost completely off his body. He noticed Warrick was looking at him and immediatly put his hands in the air, making Warrick realize he had a gun in his hand by his side.

Warrick felt like he was in a drug enduced haze. He couldn't remember anything that had happened before he had opened his eyes, but doubted it mattered much right now. All he knew for sure was that he had a gun, his cell phone was gone and one of the two Nicks in front of him was Dan Marshall. The dim lighting and beaten up conditions of the two men's bodies made it impossible to indentify who was who just based on looks. Even if they had been fine, it would still have been nearly impossible to tell because by now, they looked identical.

"Thank God you're okay," the standing Nick on the left said. "Are you okay?"

Warrick nodded as he stood slowly. "I think so. What's going on?"

"He tried to kill us," Left Nick said, motioning to bleeding Nick on the floor. "I had to fight him off and beat him until he couldn't move. He knocked Sam out, but I think she's gonna be okay."

"Fucking liar," Bleeding Nick choked out from the floor. "He's lying Warrick. That's Marshall."

Left Nick shook his head. "No, I'm not. I can prove it. He has handcuff keys in his pocket that go to Sam. He handcuffed her. Look." He knelt down next to Bleeding Nick and swiftly pulled a small set of silver handcuff keys out of the other's bloodstained jeans. "You gotta believe me. Shoot him."

Bleeding Nick slowly rose to his feet and stood next to Left Nick. "Yeah, cuz there's absolutely no way that you could have put those there while I was bleeding to death on the floor. No way in hell, right?"

Left Nick kept his hands in the air and his eyes on Warrick. "Come on bro, you know it's really me. I know you do."

"Who the fuck do you think you are, calling him bro?" Bleeding Nick said, swaying slightly on his feet.

"Fine," Left Nick said. "Ask us a question only the real Nick would know. That's the only way to prove it. Go ahead, ask anything."

Warrick felt like he was having a horrible nightmare, but he knew it was real. He knew he was going to have to somehow determine who was who and keep the other one away from his best friend. He had a good feeling that Bleeding Nick was Nick Stokes because his heart wrenched when he looked at the state he was in. Something was bugging him about Left Nick, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. And he wanted to be absolutely sure before he did anything. He was left with no choice.

"Okay," Warrick said, his voice shaking slightly. "What's your middle name?"

"James," they answered in unison.

Warrick nodded slightly. "What's mine?"

"Hakim," they said.

"What team do we use when we play Greg and Archie in Madden?"

"The Bears."

Warrick sighed. He couldn't think of anything only Nick would know because he was so nervous and afraid he was going to mess up. So he just kept asking questions.

"What's your mother's name?"

"Jillian."

Warrick smiled slightly to himself when he thought of something. "What's your father's name?"

"Cisco," they said, and Bleeding Nick looked at Left Nick with a shocked expression on his face.

Warrick bit his lip and wished he was anywhere but inside this warehouse playing the gameshow from hell. He racked his brain for something, but came up empty. He hoped he would get lucky and Marshall would slip up. He knew Nick could somehow outsmart him, but maybe not if he was the one bleeding as bad as he was and couldn't think straight.

"How many sisters do you have?"

"Five."

Warrick refrained from yelling out in frustration and asked another question. "What's your brother's name?"

"Tyler," Left Nick answered. Bleeding Nick didn't say anything, much to Left Nick's pleasure.

"Well that depends on which brother," Bleeding Nick said, locking his eyes with Warrick's.

Left Nick's hands fell to his side as his head snapped to glare at Bleeding Nick. "You don't have two brothers," he said before he could think.

Warrick's eyes broke away from Bleeding Nick and switched over to Left Nick. Left Nick kept staring at Bleeding Nick in disbelief, not realizing that he had, in fact, slipped up. Then it suddenly dawned on Warrick what had been bugging him about that guy all along. As soon as Left Nick saw that he was awake, he put his hands in the air and kept them there. Bleeding Nick never did because that was really Nick. Nick knew that Warrick would never shoot him, so he wasn't afraid and didn't see the need to put his hands up, unlike Marshall who kept them raised even though Warrick hadn't even raised the gun.

After finally realizing his mistake, Marshall acted quickly. He drew the gun out from the back of his jeans that neither Nick nor Warrick had noticed. He took three quick steps to his left before wrapping his left arm around Nick's shoulders and holding him in place with by his chest and pressed the barrel of the gun into Nick's right shoulder. Nick yelled out in pain as his knees began to shake due to the added pain in his already injured shoulder.

"Put it down or I'll shoot him. Kick it over to me," Marshall instructed Warrick.

"Don't do it," Nick said immediatly.

Marshall pressed the gun down into Nick's shoulder. "Shut the fuck up. Just do it Warrick!"

Warrick complied, not wanting to risk his friend's life by any means. Nick tried to ignore the pain, which became easier to forget about when out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam's eyes flicker open and look from Warrick to him and Marshall. Worry was cast over her face as she saw the scene in front of her, which wasn't looking too good for Nick at the moment.

"Let them go," Nick said to Marshall. "This isn't about them. This is between you and me. So let both of them go, put the gun down, and we'll settle this whole thing, okay?"

Marshall scoffed. "No chance in hell. As long as they're here, you won't even move. You're too afraid that I'll hurt them, which I will just to hurt you. If you won't give me your life, I'm going to take everything from you so you have nothing left to live for."

Nick was having trouble staying on his feet, but at the same time wasn't able to slip through Marshall's grip. He clenched his jaw against the pain the gun barrel was putting on what he was certain was his broken collar bone from Marshall beating him before he had blacked out. Being chained up had proven to be an unfair advantage for Marshall, and Nick hadn't fought back because he wanted to guarantee Sam's - and now Warrick's as well - safety before he even though about himself.

"If you even touch either one of them, I will kill you. What you don't understand is that the more you take away from me, the more I have to fight for. It's just gives me more reasons to want to kill you. So don't be stupid."

"You're the one being stupid," Marshall argued. "You could have given up long before it had to come to this. And in the end, I still win. I win Nick, can't you see that? How are you going to come out of this alive?"

Nick shook his head. "I don't have to. That's not what I'm trying to do. As long as you don't win, I can't lose."

Marshall added pressure to the gun. "Shut up. Don't say another word, or I'll kill you right in front of them. Got it?"

Nick didn't answer. He barely had enough energy left to keep his eyes open. He could feel the life slowly draining out of him, but he didn't let it bother him. The harder Marshall pressed on the gun, the more Nick could feel Marshall's racing heart against his shoulder blade. Marshall was the scardest person in the room and had everything he wanted to lose, and he knew that. They all knew Marshall was running out of ideas and would be left with nothing if Nick died, so he was trying to buy himself time.

Nick on the other hand was sick of it. He was sick of this maniac trying to take over his life and hurt the people he loves. He was sick of feeling helpless and not knowing what to do to make everything okay. The faster Marshall's heart raced the more Nick thought that what he had come up with was a good idea. He was almost positive it would work, and if it didn't fully, it would definitely help Sam and Warrick enough to ensure that they would be okay, even if he wasn't.

Nick reached up with his battered right hand and gripped Marshall's wrist, trying to pull the gun away from his shoulder. That proved to be unaffective, especially since Nick was so weak and only getting weaker. He moved his hand to cover Marshall's hand and shaky finger on the trigger. Nick squeezed his eyes shut for a second before opening them and looking at Warrick, who had been staring at him the entire time.

"You were wrong about so many things Dan," Nick said, his voice hoarse and sounding strange to his own ears. "But your biggest mistake was thinking that I would give up. That, and thinking I only had one brother."

"But you do only have one brother. Tyler is your only brother."

Nick shook his head and stood up as straight as he can, pressing the back of his shoulder against the center of Marshall's chest. "No, I don't. I have two. The other one's standing right in front of us. He knows better than anyone that I'd never give up. I'm not giving up, I'm just not winning."

A split second after he finished speaking, Nick pulled his finger over Marshall's as hard as he could. The sound of the trigger clicking was barely heard before the loud bang of the gunshot rang out and filled the entire room. Warrick and Sam jumped at the sudden action. Marshall would have if he had had time to. As Nick had thought, the bullet ripped through his shoulder just before his collar bone and esploded through his back. Directly behind his shoulder was Dan Marshall's heart, which finally stopped racing when the bullet tore through his flesh and stopped only when it met the muscle, stopping his heart immediatly immediatly.

The gun clanked to the floor from Nick and Marshall's hands as Marshall fell backwards, landing on his back on the floor and laying still. Blood stained what was left of his shirt as it seeped from the fatal gunshot wound in his chest. Nick swayed on his feet for a few more seconds before his eyes slowly closed and he slowly fell forward and to his left, landing on his knees before falling over onto his side. Blood poured from the gaping hole in his shoulder, running down his chest before pooling on the floor.

Time flew by in slow motion. In a split second, Warrick was at Nick's side, pulling his best friend against him and trying to stop the bleeding from the bullet and where Nick's head had collided with the cement floor. The Texan's eyes were closed and his chest was barely moving up and down. Warrick silently willed him to open his eyes and unable to do so out loud because the lump in his throat wouldn't go away. What semeed like hours later but was actually only mere minutes, Warrick was joined by Sam, Brass and Grissom at Nick's side for a few moments before the paramedics pulled them away.

Nick was loaded onto the ambulance and rushed away to the hospital before anyone had even had time to try and jump in with him, or possibly say what very well might be their last goodbye.

* * *

Sorry for the slow update rate. The holidays were hectic and I just couldn't find the time. Sorry for the cliffhanger as well. Next chapter should be up soon. Thanks for the reviews, hope you're all enjoying this. 


	12. Relief

Once Warrick had managed to shake the doctors off of him, he sought out to find Grissom or Brass, or both. He hadn't seen either man since they had arrived at the hospital and Warrick had been dragged away to be checked out. The doctors had ignored him when he had said he was fine and they went ahead with checking him out anyway. He cooperated to make it go faster, and was finally on his own again, roaming the halls, looking for someone he knew. After only a couple minutes of searching, he saw Sam leaning up against the wall at the end of the hall he had just started down. Her back was facing him and her head was hanging as she stared down at the pale tile floor. 

Warrick all but ran up to her, and as he approached he heard Brass and Grissom's voices from just around the corner at the end of the hall. Sam turned when she heard Warrick come up next to her. She forced a sad smile as tears rolled slowly down her pale cheeks. Neither one of them said anything as they waited for Brass and Grissom to finish speaking with the doctor and come over to them, which they did shortly after Warrick had arrived at the end of the hall.

"He's going to be okay," Grissom said before Warrick or Sam even had a chance to ask. "He's in pretty rough shape and it took a while to make him stable, but he's going to be okay."

"For sure? Nothing's gonna go wrong?" Warrick asked, unable to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

Grissom shook his head. "He just needs a lot of rest. They were able to remove the bullet from his shoulder and fix everything else that had happened to him. The worst of it is the bullet woun and the cuts from the glass."

"The removed over two-hundred pieces of glass from his body," Brass added solemnly.

"But he's going to be fine?" Sam asked again to be sure.

Grissom nodded with a small smile. "Yes, he is."

Brass sighed as he had to change the subject. "I know this is the last thing either of you want to do right now, but we're going to need to take your statements. The sheriff's flipping out about this and the sooner it's done the better. Nick's still asleep, and by the time we're done, he'll probably be awake and you can go see him."

Sam and Warrick merely nodded as they followed Brass to the chairs against the wall halfway down the other end of the hall. They silently sat in the chairs with Brass standing in from of them. Grissom followed closely behind them after only hesitating for a moment. He stood next to Brass and looked down at his CSi and Sam, somewhat eager to hear the tale of what had happened with Dan Marshall back where they had found Nick, Sam and Warrick as well as Marshall.

"Alright, let's just hear what you can remember. Sam, why don't you start," Brass said.

Sam took a deep breath. "I don't know what happened in between when the smoke started and when I woke up in the building Marshall had brought us to. When I woke up, I was standing in a glass cage. Nick was sitting in a chair in front of me, still knocked out. He woke up a couple minutes later."

"Did Marshall come out then?" Brass inquired.

Sam shook her head. "No. He just started talking from somewhere in the dark. I couldn't see where he was or really hear what he said. But as soon as it was quiet again, water started pouring into the tank."

Brass was quickly jotting the down. "Was Nick tied down?"

"No, but his chair was bloted to the ground. He got up right away and tried to pull the hose out of the tank and bend it to stop the water. Then he tried to lift the chair, but it was stuck to the ground. So he made me back up and broke through the glass with his fist and shoulder. It took him a couple minutes and when he finally broke it enough he fell back and was bleeding pretty bad. He wouldn't wake up for a couple seconds but then he did. That's when Marshall came out."

"How pissed was he?" Grissom asked.

"Very. He kept saying something about how Nick and I love each other and he was mad about it because he thought he was better at being Nick than Nick was. Then he told Nick he could give up or try and put up a fight and just make it more complicated."

Brass smiled a little. "I don't need to ask what choice Nick picked. He likes to be a pain in the ass."

That elicited a small smile from Sam. "That's exactly what he said too," she said as she laughed a little. Then she continued. "Then Marshall said something about being able to prove to me that he's better than Nick, so he told me to kiss Nick. But he kept yelling at Marshall, making him madder because he was right about everything he was saying. Marshall put the gun to Nick's head and I thought he was going to kill him but I couldn't move because I was so scared but Nick did."

"He did what Marshall wanted him to do," Brass said more than asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, and that _really_ pissed him off because then he knew he was wrong. Then he tried to kiss me after he hit Nick but Nick got back up and stood in the way of Marshall when he was trying to shoot me. Nick wouldn't move and Marshall didn't want to hurt him, not yet anyway. Nick said he wasn't giving up and Marshall got scared."

"What did he do to Nick?" Brass asked, even though he was quite sure he didn't want to know for sure.

Tears started forming in Sam's eyes again. "He chained Nick up to the wall and started beating him up. He handcuffed me and put duct tape over my mouth so I had to watch him torturing Nick. Marshall hit Nick a couple more times and was pointing the gun at him. That's the last thing I can remember. When I woke up, Marshall was holding the gun on Nick and then it went off and you guys showed up."

"I come in between those parts," Warrick said quietly. "I don't remember passing out before, but when I woke up, I was in a chair facing Marshall and Nick. Except I didn't know who was who. I was pretty sure, but wanted to be positive. So I asked them a bunch of questions, and they both kept saying the same thing. Then I asked them what Nick's brother's name is."

"Which is Tyler," Grissom said when Warrick stopped.

"Yeah. That's what Marshall said, but not Nick. He said that it depends on which brother I was talking about. Nick tricked him. He tricked Marshall into saying 'but **you** only have one brother,' not '**I** only have one brother.' But he realized his slip up and grabbed his gun, put it on Nick and made me give me his."

"Did he shoot Nick?" Brass asked.

"No. Nick tried to make him let us go, but Marshall wouldn't. He was freaking out because he had messed up." Warrick explained.

Brass shook his head slowly. "Then who shot Nick?"

Warrick sighed. "Nick."

"Wait, he shot himself?" Brass said, dumbfounded.

Warrick nodded. "Yeah, because he knew that by doing that, it would go right through him and kill Marshall. Marshall was standing right behind him holding the gun against his shoulder. Nick would have been fine after the gunshot if it hadn't been for everything else he had been through."

A smile spread across Grissom's face, somewhat to the surprise of the others. "I told Nick that no one would ever be able to think like him, that he was the only one with the thought process he has."

Grissom looked from Sam to Warrick to Brass before he said, "And I was right."


	13. Saddest Girl Story

Nick had himself convinced that if he laid completely still, that that would somehow make all the pain go away. He wasn't sure how that was going to work, but he figured it was worth a shot. But after about a half hour of that not working, he gave up with a sigh and tried to relax. That proved to be even harder than sitting still. He was in a lot of pain, and as he looked at his battered body, the more worried he became. He saw all the stitches and less serious cuts below the very large bandage on his right shoulder, but couldn't remember what happened. All he could remember was seeing Sam and Warrick before he passed out. He knew he heard a gun go off, but he didn't know what that meant. 

The longer Nick laid there by himself, the worse his headache became because he was worrying so much. Where was everyone? Or someone at least. He needed to know if Warrick and Sam were okay and wouldn't mind finding out what had happened to himself in the process. Nick couldn't remember anything that had happened, and he didn't know why he couldn't remember anything either. He was unsure of which was worse.

After about an hour, the searing pain Nick had felt when he had first woke up had dulled into more of a numbness, something he was used to at this point in his life. He knew that the doctors wouldn't have been able to give him morphine for the pain because he was allergic to it. They had found that out when Nigel Crane had pushed him through the window. Nick also knew that no numbing agent would have been used when he had been given stitches because he had had an allergic reaction to them as well everytime he had been given them as a kid when he had needed stitches for doing something stupid with his older brother. The main reason Nick hates going to the dentist is because he knows that if he has a cavity, he won't be able to get novacaine because it would only make him sick.

Knowing all of this only made Nick feel worse because it reminded him that so much bad stuff had happened to him in his life. But Nick pushed all of that to the back of his mind and focused on figuring out a way to get someone's attention so that they could tell him what the hell was going on. He couldn't yell because everytime he opened his mouth, his jaw hurt and only added to his headache. He couldn't hit the call button either because he couldn't move his right arm at all without causing immense pain, not that he knew where it was anyway because he couldn't look around due to his stiff neck. So Nick was stranded by himself, just waiting for someone to walk in.

And someone finally did.

Grissom saw that Nick was awake before he had even stepped foot into the room. He saw Nick's brown eyes looking back at him through the window in the door and entered as quickly as possible, anxious to talk to his injured CSI.

"Good to see you awake," Grissom said with genuine joy in his voice.

"Thanks," Nick replied quickly. "What's going on? Where's Sam and Warrick? Are they okay?"

Grissom held up his hands to silence Nick. "Calm down. They're fine, they're just giving their statements to Brass. Everything's fine. You're fine, and they're fine."

Nick sighed in relief. "Okay, good. But what are they giving their statements for? Statements of what?"

"You don't remember anything?" Grissom asked with a frown. Nick didn't say anything, but his silence and the cut surrounded by a dark bruise above his left eye answered the question. "You don't remember anything," Grissom repeated, but not as a question.

Nick shook his head. "No, I don't. What happened?"

Before Grissom could answer, Warrick and Sam entered with Brass behind them, all of them happy to see Nick was awake. They all stood around the edge of Nick's bed and sighed in relief to themselves at seeing he really was okay, and pretended that the state his body was in wasn't all that bad, despite how it looked.

"Nick doesn't remember what happened," Grissom told the new comers. "The concussion he sustained has given him memory loss. Whether it's temporary or not remains to be seen."

"You don't remember anything?" Warrick asked.

"I only remember hearing a gun go off and seeing you guys before a blacked out," Nick answered. "Was one of you shot?"

Warrick smiled slightly at his friend. "No buddy, you were."

Nick frowned. "Oh. Well that's better than one of you. Were you guys hurt at all?"

They all looked at Sam as she answered. "No, we're fine thanks to you."

"Why, what did I do?"

Sam and Warrick looked at Brass and Grissom, who both nodded slightly. "You guys can explain it to him. We have to go deal with Ecklie and the sheriff," Brass said, eliciting a groan from Grissom as the two men left the hospital room.

Warrick shifted on his feet awkwardly. "After Marshall flooded the lab with smoke, he took you and Sam with him to this warehouse. He put her in a tank and started filling it up with water when you woke up. You had to break through it with your bare hands, that's why you have so many cuts and stitches."

"That makes sense," Nick said.

Sam picked it up where Warrick left off. "Then Marshall came out and chained you up and beat you. When Warrick woke up at the warehouse, he couldn't tell which one of you was which, but you tricked Marshall and made him give himself up."

"I had to ask you a bunch of questions, and you outsmarted Marshall," Warrick said. "But then he pulled his gun on you and started freaking out."

Nick nodded slowly. "So where is he? Did he get away?"

Sam looked at Warrick, silently telling him she didn't want to say it, and Warrick understood. "No man, he didn't. He had the gun up against your shoulder, where that bandage is. You pulled the trigger and the bullet went right through you and hit him."

Nick swallowed. "Did I kill him?"

Warrick looked away from Nick's eyes. "Yeah," he answered quietly.

Nick seemed to accept that fact fairly well. "Okay. So that's it? Nothing else bad happened, right?"

"Right," Warrick said. "Everything's okay now."

Moments after the silence had settled over the three people in the room, Brass and Grissom returned with annoyed looks on their faces, which was understandable seeing as how they had just spoken with Ecklie and the sheriff.

"You'll all be pleased to know that the sheriff has just been put in his place, twice, by both Grissom and Nick's doctor," Brass reported, the tone of his voice contradticting his facial expression.

Grissom grinned a little bit. "He thought that Nick killed Marshall unprovoked and with no good reason. I proceeded to forensically prove him wrong, and was backed up by Dr. Lamers."

"He wants a statement from you," Brass added, "but we're not letting him anywhere near you on account of the fact that you have a concussion and can't remember anything that happened anyway."

Nick laughed. "You guys really love to piss that guy off don't you?"

Brass shrugged. "Someone's gotta do it."

Grissom's pager abruptly went off. He took one quick look at it before looking up at Brass. "And now we gotta get back to the lab before Catherine and Greg go crazy. They're still not letting them file the report until we confirm everything."

Brass sighed. "You guys need badges that say 'we're always right, and when we're not, we're still close enough.' That would make both of our jobs that much easier, espeically mine. I don't even know what you guys are talking about half the time..."

The captain's voice faded as he and Grissom left, walking down the hall and away from the room. Warrick stood with a smile on his face at Brass' rambling and turned to Nick and Sam.

"I'm gonna go try and find some decent food. I'll be right back," he said before he closed the door behind him, leaving Nick and Sam alone.

Neither one of them knew what to say. Nick didn't know what to say because he didn't have anything to say. He didn't remember anything that had happened in the warehouse, which was the only point of interest to talk about at the moment so he was virtually useless in the category. Sam didn't know what to say because she didn't know exactly how much Nick wanted to know, and the only thing she wanted him to know would probably either freak him out or make him think she was lying.

How exactly do you tell someone with no recollection of the event that you kissed them? How would you bring that up? Sam wasn't sure of either, but in the end, she didn't have to suddenly bring it up.

"What's wrong?" Nick asked, sensing Sam's unease.

"Nothing," Sam answered quickly. "I'm fine."

"I can tell you're lying," Nick said with a small smile that soon faded. "Did Marshall hurt you?"

Sam shook her head. "No, you wouldn't let him. He wanted to and then he told me to-" She stopped suddenly.

"Told you to what?"

Sam looked away from Nick's eyes. "He wanted to prove to me that he was better than you at being you, so he told me to kiss you. He had the gun pointed at me and I was so scared I couldn't move or do anything, so I just stood there. Then he put the gun to your head and I thought he was going to kill you."

Nick didn't say anything, he just laid there silently and listened to every word Sam said.

"Then you kissed me. You walked away from Marshall and kissed me and then he got pissed and tried to kiss me but you punched him in the face and wouldn't get out of the way when he wanted to shoot me." Sam sighed heavily. "I don't blame you if you don't believe me, but that's what happened."

"Why wouldn't I believe you?" Nick asked.

Sam laughed sarcastically. "Because you're this great guy and I'm someone you were forced to meet because of that psycho. You've had so many bad things happened to you in your life, and I'm just another one of them."

Before Nick could argue against that statement, Warrick same in with a couple sandwiches and some waters. Before he had even set the food down, Sam turned to leave.

"I'm gonna go home I guess and leave you alone...let you get some rest," she mumbled as she past Warrick and went out the door, shutting it silently behind her.

Warrick watched her go before turning to Nick. "What was that about?"

Nick didn't hear Warrick's question. He didn't understand what had just happened and wished he had. He sighed heavily as he said, "I wish I could remember."


	14. Questions and Answers

Nick's head had been spinning ever since he had left the hospital, but he had cared less and less the longer he was out of that godforesaken place. There were very few places in the world that he hated more than hospitals, and for good reason. It wasn't only because of the countless times he had been put up in the hospital because of his own misfortune, but also because of all the times his friends had been in there as well. Greg had been twice, Brass once, not to mention all those times his brother had been when he was little. So needless to say, Nick wasn't too fond of hospitals, and was very glad to finally get out of there. 

He ignored his headache and all the other aches and pains all over his body as he walked up the unfamiliar walkway to the large, dark red house in front of him. His shaking hands had retreated into the sleeves of his navy blue hoodie sweatshirt and were now stuffed inside the pockets of his faded blue jeans. It wasn't that cold of a day out, but the wind blew crisply, ruffling his dark hair slightly and sending a chill down his spine.

Nick came to a stop in front of the large oak door. He reluctantly drew his left hand from his pocket and knocked on the door. He felt his still injured right hand throbbing inside its confinement, and despite the fact that it was causing him a great deal of pain keeping it crammed in there, Nick neglected to do anything about it. He just added it to the long list of the other things he was currently ignoring, like the fact that he had no idea what he was doing or what he was going to say. He figured he would wing it, and worst comes to worst, he's right back where he had started from, just not in the hospital this time.

For an unknown reason, Nick finally pulled his right hand out of his pocket when Sam opened the door, surprised to see Nick standing in front of her. She kept her right hand on the knob on the inside of the door as if she were intending to slam it shut in his face at any moment. But she didn't. She just stood there, staring at him. She was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a red long sleeved sweater, her brown hair hanging down onto her shoulders and the back of her neck. Nick stared back at her, wishing now that he had planned on something to say on his way over here.

Sam finally broke the building tension. "How did you find out where I live?" She asked, but not as rudely as Nick had expected.

"I'm a CSI," he said with a shrug. "It's kinda my specialty."

Sam forced herself not to smile. "Why are you here?" Her voice was soft and sounded as if it were on the verge of breaking.

"I needed to see you and talk to you," Nick explained. "I didn't say what I should have at the hospital because you caught me off guard and I didn't know what else to do, so I didn't do anything."

Sam shook her head slightly. "It's okay, you don't have to apologize," she said as he started to close the door.

Nick's hand shot out and grabbed the door, opening it back up until he saw her face. Sam was looking down at his hand that was wrapped in a white bandage, but the cuts and stitches were still visible underneath. She flinched at the sight, knowing all too well that what he had done to his hand was because he had wanted to save her, but he didn't remember any of that. He didn't remember anything that had happened, and Sam would never be able to forget it.

"I want to," Nick said, still holding the door. When he saw Sam's hand fall from the knob, he dropped his back to his side. "I hate that I can't remember what happened, but what I do remember is being scared that Marshall was going to hurt you."

"He wanted to hurt you too," Sam said.

"I know, but I didn't care about that. I didn't care what he wanted to do to me as long as you were safe. Now, I may not remember what happened, but I remember that much and I still feel that way. It didn't go away just because I can't remember what happened in the warehouse."

Sam swallowed the lump that had started to form in her throat. "What feeling?"

"The one that I've had ever since I met you. I don't know how to explain it, but it's definitely a good thing. I was never scared for my own life throughout this whole Marshall thing, you were the only thing I was worried about."

"You're not making any sense."

Nick smiled. "I rarely do. But I don't care about that, and I don't care that Marshall tried to take over my life. I can't say that I wish that that never happened because that's not true. I'm glad it happened because I met you."

Tears started to build up in Sam's dark green eyes. "You don't know what you're saying, you obviously still have a headache from before."

"That's true, but I do know what I'm saying," Nick replied. "I know that this is going to sound crazy, but I haven't stopped thinking about you since the day I met you. I think I'm in love with you. And I know that you wouldn't still be standing there if you didn't feel the same way."

Sam stared at him blankly, appearing as if she were at a loss for words. "Okay, so what if I do? Where do you plan to go from here Nick?"

Nick didn't have a verbal answer for that, so he didn't give one. Instead, he resorted to stepping foward slightly and pressing his lips against Sam's softly, kissing her gently. She was surprised at this as well, but didn't pull away or even move at all for a couple seconds. When the initial shock wore off, she leaned closer to Nick, eventually giving in to the overwhelming feeling and wrapping her arms around his neck. Nick responded by putting his hands on her hips and pulling himself closer.

When they finally broke apart, Sam couldn't help but stare deeply into Nick's dark brown eyes. She had believed everthing he had said to her before, but now the impact of it all really sank in as she looked into his eyes. She shivered slightly at his soft touch against her cheek, but it was a good kind of shiver. The best kind.

Nick smiled again. "I'm definitely gonna remember that."

* * *

Brass sighed heavily as he sat down behind his desk. "Okay Nicky, let's just get this over with, okay?"

Nick nodded as he sat in front of Brass with Warrick, Catherine, Grissom, Greg, and Sam standing behind him against the back wall. Their only pupore there was to defend Nick if the sheriff or Ecklie decide to show up and try to heckle the Texan, but that hadn't happened yet. All Brass was interested in was getting something close to a statement from Nick and letting him go home to get better because he still looked a lot worse than anyone would like him to be.

"Tell me everything that you can remember. Wether it makes sense or is in order doesn't matter."

Nick nodded again. "Okay. All I can really remember is Marshall saying something about how he had won and that he kept asking me when I was going to give up. Then I heard a gun go off I saw Sam and Warrick. That's it."

Brass wrote that on a piece of paper, taking his time to prolong the moment he had to look back up at Nick, which he eventually had to. "Okay. Warrick and Sam filled in the blanks at the hospital, right?"

"Yeah," Nick answered. He read the look on Brass' face as if what he was thinking had been written there. "I know I killed Marshall."

Brass didn't seem surprised that Nick had read his mind. "Out of self-defense," he added.

Nick shrugged. "I guess so. I can't say I remember. All I know for sure is that I would have killed him if I had to, and I guess I did."

"He didn't do anything wrong," Warrick chimed in.

Brass smiled slightly. "No one's saying he did. I know he wouldn't have done anything if it hadn't been necessary. Grissom and I both backed him up on that against the sheriff earlier at the hospital."

"So what does this mean?" Nick asked.

"You're not being charged with the death of Dan Marshall or Mike Laring. We proved already that you were framed and that Marshall killed Laring, and that you can't be held responsible for Marshall's death. Marshall doesn't have family, so it's not probable that there'll be a civil suit against you or anything," Brass said.

Nick turned around and looked at Greg without realizing he had done so until the ex-labrat spoke up. "Hey man, just because I had a civil suit against me doesn't mean it can always be associated with me."

Nick smiled apologetically. "Sorry G."

Greg shrugged it off with a smile of his own. "I guess I would have had to repay the favor and defend you in court. Ya know, keep your ass outta jail for all of our sakes."

"It would sure keep him out of trouble though," Brass said thoughtfully.

"I bet he could still find a way to wreak havoc behind bars," Grissom said. "It would really only make him work harder."

"Hey, I don't do any of this on purpose. I don't call people up and ask them to stalk me. They do it on their own," Nick said defensively.

"But you never make the situaitons any easier," Catherine added. "You've been known to intice people all the time. You're the biggest smartass I've ever met and you never know when you shut your mouth."

"No, he does, he just chooses not to," Greg said.

"Thanks for all your support guys, I appreciate it. I love you all too," Nick said sarcastically.

"That's exactly what we're talking about smartass," Brass said with a small laugh. "You'd still be making sarcastic comments even if your jaw was wired shut."

"Well I learned from the best," Nick said, turning around to face Brass, but the police captian was now looking over Nick at the scene unfolding outside of the office.

Multiple cameras and reporters were trying to force their way into the police station, but were being stopped by a few cops and the secratary. Everyone else in the office followed Brass' gaze to outside of the office, where they were starting to get louder, almost to the point where everyone in Brass' office could hear what they were saying, but not quite yet. There was definitely a lot of noise, but none of it was very clear.

Nick turned back around in his seat and sighed heavily. "I wonder what they're here for."

Greg glanced over his shoulder quickly before meeting gazes with Warrick, who nodded silently in agreement with the younger man. "Alright Nicky, Sam, get ready to run."

Nick frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Greggo and I will go out there and create a diversion. You and Sam can go out the side door and down the halls to the back. Your car is parked out there anyway," Warrick explained.

Nick started to grin a little. "What kind of diversion?"

Greg threw up his hands dramatically. "What the hell does it matter? I'll let him kick my ass if you want, I don't care. Leave that to us and just go will ya?"

Sam walked over to Nick and pushed him slightly forward, elicting him to stand from his chair. "Be quiet for once and just listen to instructions," she said, unable to hold back a smile.

Catherine laughed immediatly. "Amen."

Nick and Sam waited at the side door to Brass' office until Greg and Warrick went out the door leading to the main lobby, where they immedaitly started yelling at each other and anyone else that would pay any attention to them. Nick and Sam slipped out the side door, quickly walking down the hall and taking a right into the hall that lead them all the way to the back door to the parking lot where Nick's Denali was waiting for them.

"Are you sure you can drive?" Sam asked as they hopped into Nick's car.

"I'm fine," Nick reassured her. "I'm not taking any medicine so that won't affect me, and everything's pretty much healed by now anyway," he said as he started the car and put it into gear.

"Why aren't you taking your medication?" Sam asked.

"Because I hate it," Nick said simply.

"So you're not gonna take it and not get better just because you hate it?"

Nick looked at Sam quick, but abruptly looked away when he saw that she was smiling slightly at him. "I'm getting better without it, I don't need it. Most of the time it ends up making me worse than without it."

Sam scoffed. "I don't believe you. You're just being stubborn."

Nick looked back at her and smiled. "So what?"

She crossed her arms in defeat. "It's stupid," she mumbled.

Nick was still smiling when he looked back at the road, but it faded after a couple miuntes. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked because he had a feeling Sam really wasn't.

She kept her eyes away from his that kept glancing at her every so often. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you were kidnapped, put in a glass tank, tied up, and who knows what else Marshall would have tried to do to you. I know it's normal for me, but it's not normal for normal people."

Sam turned away so that she couldn't see any part of Nick at all. She stared out the window as she said, "I'm fine, I swear."

"Then why won't you look at me?"

The tears that had been building up in Sam's eyes started to fall as she turned her head and looked at Nick. "Because you almost died. Marshall almost killed you, and you were gonna let him. You were going to let yourself be killed, for me."

Nick was looking back and forth between Sam and the road every couple of seconds. He didn't say anything though. He didn't know what to say, so he was quiet, which was quite a rarity with Nick.

"When I met you, the first thing I thought was that you're such a nice guy and so great and everything, and then that damn psycho kept trying to kill you and I didn't know why I cared so much. I cared a hell of a lot more that he was trying to hurt you than I should have considering you were barely more than a stranger to me. But I didn't want you to get hurt and I wanted you to be okay and not get hurt because of me."

"This wasn't your fault," Nick said. "Marshall dragged you into this to try and hurt me more, which he would have if he had in fact hurt you. I wanted to save you from the beginning because you're not like anyone I've ever met before. You're laid back and funny and so beautiful..." Nick trailed off as his eyes were stuck to the road.

Sam turned in her seat so she was fully facing Nick, who pretended he couldn't see her looking at him from the corner of his eye. "Do you love me?" She asked suddenly.

Nick was about to turn and look at her, but stopped himself at the last second. He could see Sam looking at him, waiting for an answer that she pretty much already knew. The tears had stopped falling from her eyes, but were still present on the tips of the bottomg of her eyelids, waiting to pour out given the opportune moment.

"You said before at my house that you thought you did, but I know that you've known for sure for some time," she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "Do you love me?" She repeated.

"Yes, I do," Nick said immediatly after Sam had spoken. "I have basically since the minute I met you, and it's really weird because that's never happened to me before and I don't know what to do or say to you. I'm this totally fucked up guy who has a new stalker every couple of years, and you're you. You're perfect, and I'm me."

Sam smiled, and Nick finally looked at her. "Well I'm glad you're you, because I love you."

* * *

Sorry it took so long. There's going to be a few more chapters, I'm not sure yet exactly how many. Thanks for the reviews, and I hope you're enjoying it.

I'm also writing another Nick story called "For All Of This" which is differnent from anything I've ever written, but I think it's going to portray Nick's character well. It's more Nick centric, of course with other relationships, but it focuses more on him alone than anything else.


	15. Strip My Mind

This is the last chapter of this story. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Nick bounded into the Doc Robbin's office, unaware of the fact that the good doctor was in the middle of performing the autopsy on Dan Marshall. Nick had just wanted to ask him a quick question about the vic in the case he and Greg were working with Catherine, but his question had been quickly forgotten when he saw Marshall lying on the autopsy table. His skin was as white as the sheet covering the lower half of his body and his chest was pulled apart to reveal his insides, but Nick still couldn't help but think of how much they really did look alike.

Doc Robbins looked up and saw Nick had entered and was staring at Marshall. "I had to let David take his break early tonight," Robbins said. "He couldn't handle it, even though he knew it wasn't you." Nick didn't say anything, but he looked up at Robbins. "Thank God you walked in, I started thinking it was you myself."

Nick forced a weak smile. "Yeah...it's pretty weird," he said. He looked down at the gunshot wound in the middle of Marshall's chest quickly before looking back up at Robbins. "I killed him," he said quietly, more to himself than to Robbins.

"I'm sorry Nick," Robbins apologized. "I should have gotten this done before you came back to work, but we've been so backed up it was impossible. I didn't want you to have to see this. It wasn't your fault, you did the only thing you could have done."

Nick nodded slightly. "Yeah, I know." He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his mind. "Uh...oh, did you send blood to tox on my vic from the woods?"

"Yeah, I sent it over there about an hour ago. Henry should be almost done with it."

"Thanks Doc," Nick said as he turned and left, forcing himself not to look back over his shoulder at Dan Marshall's dead body that could have just as easily been his dead body.

Nick found Greg in the A/V lab with Archie, looking at the tapes from the fight outside Bar 911 that their dead body and suspect had gotten in a few hours before the victim had been found. He joined them in front of the computer screen, but didn't pay much attention to what was going on. He couldn't get the previous image of Dan Marshall out of his head, no matter how hard he tried.

"It looks like the vic is doing more damage to our suspect than vice versa," Greg said to Nick, snapping him out of his trance.

Nick nodded. "Yeah. Maybe the suspect followed our vic out of the parking lot after cuz he was pissed off."

Greg saw the distant look on Nick's face and knew something was up, but didn't say anything right then and there. He didn't think that it was his place, but most of all he hoped he was wrong. They watched the rest of the tape before heading off to find Catherine and go get the trace results. Before they had even found Catherine, Greg's worry for Nick took over and he stopped his friend in the hallway by grabbing his shoulder gently, getting Nick's attention.

"What'd up G?" Nick asked.

"You don't look so good," Greg said. "You got really pale since before I saw you in Archie's lab. Are you okay?"

Nick nodded too quickly. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Nick's voice gave it away. "Oh shit," Greg said, finally realizing what happened. "You saw him, didn't you?"

"Saw who?" Nick asked, playing dumb.

"Marshall," Greg answered, "in Doc's office. I knew he was in there, but I thought he was long done by the time you said you were gonna go see him. I wouldn't have let you go if I knew he was still in there. I'm sorry Nick."

Nick shook his head. "It's not your fault Greg. I'm fine, really."

"You don't look fine," Greg argued. "Go home and get some rest, you shouldn't even be back to work yet anyway. I'll tell Cath, we'll take care of the case."

Nick sighed and smiled slightly. "Yeah, maybe you're right. Thanks man, I'll see ya later."

Once he got in his car and started to drive home, Nick was glad that he had listened to Greg. His head had started spinning, and now his shoulder was throbbing under the bandages covering the stiches on his skin. Nick pressed his left hand against his aching shoulder and kept his right hand on the wheel, somehow managing to drive all the way home without getting into an accident.

Well, he didn't exactly go home. He didn't have a home, not right now at least. His home had been burned down by the psychopath in the morgue. For the last couple of weeks since he had gotten out of the hospital, he had been staying with Sam. She had felt bad that his house had been burned down and didn't want him to stay in a hotel where no one would be there in case something happened. Plus, most hotels didn't accept dogs, and she couldn't leave Maverick on his own either.

Sam had seen Nick pull into the driveway three hours earlier than he normally would have an immediatly knew something was wrong. He sat in his car for a few minutes before getting out and wandering up to the front door, which Sam opened as soon as he walked up.

"What happened?" she asked upon seeing him holding his shoulder.

Nick shook his head slowly. He closed the door behind him and leaned up against him. "I don't know. I saw Marshall in the morgue, and then my shoulder started hurting. It's like some weird Harry Potter effect."

Sam smiled sadly. "It's just subconscious," she said, but still looked at Nick worriedly.

He shook his head again and smiled at Sam. "Ya know, you're the only psychiatrist I've ever been able to stand, and that's really saying something."

Sam rolled her eyes sarcastically. She took Nick's free hand and carefully pulled him off the door and lead him over to the couch. he laid down, still holding his shoulder, and closed his eyes. Sam sat on the couch next to him and gently ran her hand back and forth through his dark hair.

"Do you want some ice for it?" she asked.

Nick shook his head. "No, it's going away now. I just can't that picture of him out of my head. I can't even remember killing him."

"That's a good thing," Sam said. "You can't blame yourself for this Nick. You did the right thing, even if it doesn't feel like it."

"I know," Nick said. "I'm not sorry I did it, I had to to save you and Warrick. I just don't know why it affected me so much when I saw him. Maybe it's because he looks so much like me."

Sam nodded even though Nick couldn't see her. They were quiet for a moment before she asked, "Are you afraid to die?"

Nick opened his eyes and looked up at Sam. "No," he said. "Well, yeah. I don't know."

"That could be why," she said. "If you don't feel guilty for killing him, maybe it's because you saw him on the table, but you were really looking at you."

"Should I feel guilty for killing him?" Nick asked.

"Have you ever killed anyone before?" Nick shook his head. "That could be why too. You don't necessarily feel guitly for killing Marshall, but you're not used to the feeling of taking someone's life."

Nick nodded slightly. "That makes sense. But it's better than him than you, no matter how bad that sounds."

Sam smiled and kissed Nick's forehead before standing. "I'm gonna make you something to eat."

She tried to walk away, but Nick grabbed her hand and pulled her back down onto the couch next to him. "I'm not hungry," he said. "So your efforts are futile, and you can just stay here."

She smiled again as she looked down at him. "I guess I can do that."

"Good," Nick said, smiling as well.

"So how glad were you when you found out Ecklie wasn't going to make you go see a shrink again?" Sam asked with amusement.

"Wicked," Nick answered. "There's nothing I hate more than a stranger asking me what's wrong. Then I tell him and say it doesn't bother me, and he tells me boss he thinks I'm crazy. Everyone already knew that, so it's a huge waste of time really."

"Well that's because you haven't been to the right shrink," Sam said.

Nick laughed. "Okay, let's see what you think. Pretend I'm a patient."

"A really good looking patient that I'm romantically involved with?"

Nick nodded. "Yeah, sure, whatever works."

Sam rolled her eyes again, but was still smiling. "Okay...why do you think all these bad things keep happening to you?"

Nick shrugged. "I honestly don't know."

"Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?"

"I kinda do now," Nick said as he finally dropped his hand away from his shoulder.

"Why now?" Sam asked.

"Because after everything that has happened to me, I met you," Nick explained. "So it's like it's evening itself out. Or maybe I finally just got lucky. Either way, I don't really care how it happened."

"Too bad none of your shrinks were girls, you could have just said stuff like that to them and charmed them into saying you're normal," Sam said with a small laugh. "But seriously, maybe you're afraid to die because you've come close a couple of times."

"I don't think I'm afraid though," Nick said. "I mean I guess I am, everyone pretty much is, but sometimes it feels like I'm more scared to live. I'm afraid of so many things, and after I was buried alive, it felt for a long time like I was dead."

Sam forgot about being Nick's psychiatrist. "I can't even imagine how awful that must have been."

"I was honesly ten seconds away from killing myself," Nick said. "If I hadn't opened my eyes and seen that I wasn't hallucinating Warrick's voice, I would have done it."

Sam shook her head. "I don't think you would have. I think it's safe to say I know you fairly well now, and I know you're not the kind of person who would give up. If you were gonna do it for real, you would have way before then."

"I thought for a while that maybe I should have done it."

Sam shook her head. "Why would you think that?"

"Because after I got out, everyone was still acting so scared and like I was about to break. Grissom still never really lets anyone go solo, and I thought everyone would be better off without me." Nick smiked slightly. "But don't worry, Warrick straightened me out on that one. He almost kicked my ass when I told him that."

Sam's smile returned. "Good. Maybe you really are crazy if you think that."

Nick nodded as he smiled up at Sam. "Yeah, well I think you're crazy for being with me, so that makes two of us."

* * *

Thank you to all of those who read and reviewed this story. I'm writing two more stories right now, "For All Of This" and "Vindicated", both Nick-centric stories.

Thanks again everyone.


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